Foreign Land
by Heaven Born Captain
Summary: Set post-finale  In Too Deep . A change has come to the Hammersley. A new CO. A new XO. And a new mission. Lives are at stake. Their country's security is at stake. Can they overcome certain differences and work together?
1. Chapter 1

It's possible that I'm the only woman in her early twenties that chose to stay in last night and write fanfiction. My friend even called and asked if I wanted to see Inception. But no, I was writing Sea Patrol fics... And that story I promised is up now. Set post-In Too Deep.

Additional author's note: the song for this story is Foreign Land by Eskimo Joe.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, locations or storylines from Sea Patrol. Those rights belong to Hal and Di McElroy, and the Nine Network, and I do not intend to infringe copyright laws. I am not making any profit from this story and am writing it for my enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.

Enjoy and please review.

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**Chapter One**

Mike rolled on to his side angrily and tried to find the source of his irritation. His hands stumbled around in the crisp morning light for a few moments before he remembered whose house he was in... and that the alarm clock was on the other side of the bed. He reached across his sleeping beauty and nudged the snooze button with a forefinger. Her phone buzzed a few moments later.

Kate rose slowly from her slumber and grabbed the vibrating pink handset from her bedside table. "Kate McGregor. Hello." A long pause indicated to Mike that someone was speaking to her. "Of course. I'll be there in forty-five minutes." She tossed it back on to the table.

"NAVCOM?" Mike asked as he rolled over to face his lover.

"Commander White," Kate replied happily. "She's found me a new XO."

Mike leant in and kissed her lips softly. "Mm, she found someone, did she?" he said with a smile and kissed her again.

"Or you did?" Kate managed to say between the hungry nips at her tender lips.

"Well, the last two were a disaster," he clarified.

"In your humble opinion. I didn't think they did too bad a job. But-"

"They weren't suitable leaders for the Hammersley."

"Or to serve under me, I presume."

Mike threw his arms up to protest his innocence. "It takes a while to find a good working team, you know. The position of your Executive Officer is a vital one."

"Right. This reminds me of the same thing we went through when Pete Tomasczewski left. Thank God Dutchy arrived else we'd still be going through the interview process." She rolled out of bed and grabbed her underwear. Mike stayed a while longer, enjoying the view in front of him.

"Will you get up?" she shouted as she opened the bedroom door.

He sighed. Sometimes Kate could really be a nag. But at least she cared enough for him to wash and iron his uniform, leaving it freshly pressed and hung in her wardrobe next to her own whites. He wouldn't tell her, but he did like the look of the domestic situation they'd found themselves in. They were almost living together, and he used the almost heavily. It had only been four weeks since he posted off the Hammersley and Kate had been promoted. Four weeks since they officially started their passionate and explosive liaison. Four weeks of living in each other's houses, and they'd almost acquired the criteria for a "living-together" relationship—nearly half of his closet space was taken up by her clothes and vice versa.

"Breakfast?" he asked as he walked into the kitchen.

"Oats."

He made a face.

"Well, if you don't like it, then you can go to Coles and buy your own cereal," she said after a spoonful of the mushy food.

Shrugging, he made removed a piece of bread from the bag and tossed it into the toaster. At least she had crunchy peanut butter.

"So about my new XO..."

"He came highly recommended," Mike told her. "He's young, but from what I've seen, very intelligent, determined and a fast learner. He hasn't spent as much time as the others at sea, and never on a patrol boat, but I'm banking on the fact that he'll pick up his role like that." And he snapped his fingers for grand effect.

"Okay..." Kate said unsurely. She didn't know what to make of Mike's enthusiasm or his explanation of her new XO. He was young? How young? And how did he manage to survive in the navy as a Seaman Officer if he didn't spend much time at sea? Was Mike really sure that this was who he wanted to be the CO's right hand man?

"You're concerned," Mike noticed over his sticky toast.

"Your description doesn't exactly feel me with confidence."

"He's a ladder-jumper. And his recommendations came from some very important people. I'm surprised that a Lieutenant of his age has managed to meet, let alone get to know, them. Even I don't know most of these people."

"Who? Who's endorsing him?"

"Commodore Wilson at Fleet Headquarters for one. The HMAS Harman CO, Commander Atherton is another. And they have a lot to say about him. A quick thinker. Has good instincts." It looked to Kate like he was listing the qualities she wanted to hear on his hand.

"Alright, I am going to try him out," Kate told him. "Of course. It isn't like I have much of a choice in the matter."

"You always have a choice, Kate. I'll listen to you if nobody else does."

She mocked a smile in his direction. "We should get going, Mike. We'll be late."

"Okay... my cover..." He looked around the room wildly. "Cover... cover... where is my cover?"

"Right here, Mike," she shouted from the door, holding on to it. "Right where I left it."

He took it from her hands with a gracious smile. "Where was that?"

"Hanging behind the door. You left it on the couch and I picked it up last night."

"Right..." he answered awkwardly before perking up a little. "Ready to go? Lieutenant Commander McGregor?"

Her brows furrowed as she gave him a temperate stare.

"Wow... that was a mouthful," he continued as he led the way to his car. "Maybe you should change your name to something with just one syllable. It'd be much easier to pronounce."

He didn't get a verbal response, but she was clearly unimpressed. And he was mentally kicking himself. They'd been together for what... four weeks? Plus all the time they wasted, but that was really not the point. Was he subliminally suggesting marriage? And why was her reply so cold to that?

They drove to HMAS Cairns with the sound of breakfast radio. And there seemed to be an abnormal level of traffic on the main road. She was going to be late. He stopped in front of the building to allow her to disembark quickly and arrive at her meeting with Maxine on time while he parked the car.

"Door-to-door service," he said with a smile.

She braved a quick kiss before opening the door. Mike was expecting her to close it and run into the building, and he was entirely surprised when she poked her head back in and grinned at him. "Just so you know, Mike, I am not changing my name, regardless of what might happen in the future."

And even the collecting thunderstorm could not dampen his smile as he drove away.


	2. Chapter 2

Fair warning - new character introduced in this chapter. I don't really like giving original characters a huge role, but with Mike off the ship and Kate promoted, I had to find a new XO. A suitable XO. And an interesting XO. I hope that I've done that, and I hope that his history leaves you guessing.

Enjoy and please review.

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**Chapter Two**

Four weeks in this cabin and she still couldn't get used to it. Four weeks in the CO's chair on the bridge and she still felt like something was missing. Mike had told her that it would take some getting used to. She was starting to think that it would take a hell of a lot more than _some_. There was something so very different about her life now. Not only did she have a heightened responsibility in taking over the command of a patrol boat, but she felt that parts of that boat belonged to some alternate reality. To a place where her spy thrillers replaced Mike's philosophical texts and inspiring classics. The desk felt the same. There was paperwork, stationary and a Macbook Pro, but there was something missing. Mike's coffee? His copy of Homer's Odyssey? Him?

A knock at the cabin door interrupted her thoughts. She flung at the handle and tore it open.

"Yes?"

A tall, beige-skinned young man was standing in her doorway. A Lieutenant, she gathered from his uniform, but his imposing posture coupled with a genuine smile gave off an ambiguous impression.

"You'd be my new XO?"

"Yes, ma'am." And he held his hand out for her to shake.

She did so cautiously. "Kate McGregor."

"Rafael Jordão Rodrigues da Marcos," he said quickly.

Kate stared at him. "Seriously?"

He laughed with another wide smile. "Raffy Rodrigues. Shortened." He signalled so with his hands.

"I was told you'd be arriving today, but Commander White failed to mention anything more. I haven't even received your file yet," Kate announced, sifting through the unnatural mess on her desk.

"Don't expect to," he advised her. "Not yet anyway."

"Really?" she asked curiously. "Why's that?"

He shrugged. "Administrative screw-up, ma'am?"

Who would believe that garbage? Kate certainly didn't. Unquestionably, there was something off about her new XO. She only hoped that it didn't cost her or her crew anything.

"How you going, mate?" Raffy was talking to someone else now. Kate looked up to see the Swain standing beside the new officer, who stood just a little taller but unmistakably lankier.

"Chris Blake, mate. Swaino," he introduced, shaking hands with the new guy.

"Raffy Rodrigues."

"Ready to set sail, ma'am." Dutchy had joined the assembly in her doorway. "You must be the new XO."

"Introductions will have to wait, Dutchy," Kate instructed him. She pushed past the group and shepherded them to the bridge. "We have a patrol start."

"Aye, ma'am," Dutchy answered as Swain took over at the helm.

She took her place in the CO's chair, breathing the fresh and triumphant air of command. Raffy took his place beside her and watched intently as the crew mustered to bring the ship out of port. He spent the first few hours of their journey meeting the crew and familiarising himself with the equipment. Mike had said that her new XO would be a fast learner, and he was definitely showing the initiative that she valued in a good officer. But there were issues, the most pressing of all that he had not been posted on to a patrol boat before today.

"Coffee," Dutchy said distractingly beside her, about three hours into their patrol. He was holding her steaming travel mug in one hand, the one she'd stolen from Mike when he left the ship, and the weather report in the other. She didn't need the report to tell her that they were in for some bad weather—the storm clouds were already circling and the distinct sound of thunder crackling in the distance was ever-present.

"Ma'am!" Raffy called out from the other side of the ship.

"What is it?"

"Something in the water," he replied dutifully, his binoculars still covering his vision. "Green, four-five."

She brought up her own pair. "Anything on the EOD?"

"I've got something, ma'am," Bird answered. The focus in front of her was zooming in and as Dutchy loomed over her shoulder, waiting impatiently for the 'something' to appear on the screen. "Clothing?"

"A body," Raffy clarified in a dead tone.

Kate just nodded. "Let's get it out."

She watched from her high position, Raffy standing off just to her right, as Charge and Dutchy organised the removal of the body from the water via the recovery line. 2Dads, soaked to the core in his stinger suit, was pulled out just after the body.

Making her way down to the boat deck, she had a slightly sinking feeling about the situation. Every time they pulled a body from the water, an unusually hairy encounter ensued. And she couldn't rid her mind of the images of their mission the last time this happened. It had been her final assignment as Executive Officer.

The dripping body was clothed in a messy red t-shirt and dark indigo jeans. He wasn't wearing shoes, which Kate discerned to be a little strange, but perhaps he lost them in the water.

"Turn him over," she said to Dutchy.

He complied and revealed the face of an average height, average weight, tan-skinned man of Asian appearance. Raffy, who had followed her down from the bridge, had his phone out and Kate guessed that he was taking a photo of the man's face. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why. NAVCOM would chase down this man's identity. They'd need to return to port or rendezvous with the Feds to hand over the body.

"Get photos to NAVCOM ASAP, RO," she ordered.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Any idea how long he's been in the water, Swain?"

"Not long, ma'am." He was checking the body for any distinguishing features or tags. "Perhaps only a few hours, but I'd be guessing."

"This close to land," Raffy began, "whoever tossed that body overboard would be long gone by now. Could've made for Cairns or Port Douglas or Cooktown by now. Maybe further south."

"Make for home port," Kate announced. Raffy was right about that. They were not going to find this needle in the very large haystack.

It took them about five minutes to prepare for their homebound trip and they were underway again. The sickening feeling was still there, but at least her former CO would be waiting for her in port, fresh with an abundance of advice on how to pursue this case. It would be the Feds' jurisdiction technically, but, somehow, she just knew it would fall back into her lap. It always did.

A loud beep distracted her. She looked around and saw Raffy remove his iPhone from his right pocket. Did it have something to do with the photo of the body he took just twenty minutes ago?

"I've got an ID on the body," he broadcasted.

Yes. Yes, it did.

"What?" Kate was confused. How on Earth did he manage that so fast? And alone? Who did he contact?

"Name's Muhammad Surapanta," Raffy continued. "Person of interest."

"What do you mean by that?" Swain put in.

"He's on a list. He departed from Denpasar three days ago on the Australian-flagged pleasure cruise, Water Demon, as a deckhand."

"He must be on some list for you to know all of that," Kate added, with an expression of concern and distrust.

He didn't answer and was probably grateful when the distraction came immediately.

"Ma'am, Commander Flynn is on the phone," RO told her.

"I'll take it in my cabin." She wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to saying that.

Her desk was as messy as when she left it, but she managed to find the phone. "Yes, Commander Flynn?"

"Kate, I've got an ID on the body. The name's Muhammad Surapanta. He's an Indonesian national and our intelligence reports have him on an Australian cruise that left Denpasar three days ago called The Water Demon. It lists him as a person of interest but anymore than that appears to be above my pay grade."

"Not above Lieutenant Rodrigues' though," Kate put in.

"What?"

"My new XO took a photo of the body and sent it to someone. I already know everything you just told me."

"Right, who did he send it to?"

"I haven't got around to that yet."

"Well," Mike continued, "I've tracked down his file and sent it to you."

"Okay..." she droned as she pulled the Macbook out from under a bunch of files and opened it. "I'm bringing it up now." She scrolled through the information quickly. It was a quick read.

"Rafael Jordão Rodrigues da Marcos; born June 18, 1983," she dictated from the screen. "He's only 27?"

"I did say that he was young."

"Well, this file doesn't say anything. It has his sea record for the first three years from the _Anzac_ to the _Ballarat_, but there is precious little on the last two years."

"I know," Mike recited. "Egypt; March 2008 to September 2008. Canberra; September 2008 to July 2009. Jakarta; July 2009 to July 2010. Got an IQ somewhere in the stratosphere."

"Mm, 158. It's quite high."

"And he's fluent in Portuguese, Tetum and Indonesian, and speaks a great deal of Arabic, too, as well as a good level of Hebrew, Farsi and Pashto. We have fifty year old diplomats who aren't half as valuable as this kid."

Kate was biting the inside of her lip. It was all well and fine that he was an exceptional asset to the Navy and the Defence Force in general, but that didn't ease her mind at all. "The last two suggest time spent in Afghanistan."

"Yes, they do, but that's all that's recorded."

Kate was running her a hand through her hair exasperatedly. "Why?"

"I don't know. But I've got a good guess."


	3. Chapter 3

Third instalment up now. I hope that everybody is starting to like Raffy even if he gives you the heeber jeebers. I had to do some calculations in this chapter that I'm not sure of - not trained in maritime navigation. I hope they turned out right, or even close.

Enjoy and please review.

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**Chapter Three**

Kate's chance to ask Mike his thoughts on her new XO was soon lost when RO hurtled into her cabin, at least taking the time to knock first.

"Ma'am, Coastwatch has spotted The Water Demon twelve nautical miles southeast of our current position," RO said quickly.

Nodding, she closed her laptop and followed him up to the bridge. "Right, let's get there. What's their position?" Her eyes scanned the room fast. Dutchy was at the helm, Charge was by his computers and their new Chefo, Evelyn Ward, also known as Sharkey, was on the EOD.

"18 degrees, 3.16 south; 148 degrees, 49.34 east," RO read out as Raffy entered the coordinates.

"Bearing?" Kate asked.

"Two-two-zero," he answered speedily and looked up. "I've got them on radar."

"I have them on the EOD, ma'am," Sharkey piped up.

"Have you ever wondered what EOD stood for?" Bird pondered aloud from behind her.

"Electro-Optical Detector," Raffy answered with a smug smile.

Sharkey was focused, ignoring the conversation behind her. "That's the boat alright."

Kate walked over and compared the print-out from NAVCOM to the screen. "Yes, it is."

"Approximately 8 minutes to intercept, ma'am," her XO added.

She returned to the CO's chair. "Have you done many boardings, X?"

"Yes, ma'am. I've had my fair share."

That didn't exactly put Kate's mind at ease but she would trust him on this. Regardless of the fact that he had given her cause for concern, he had already shown enthusiasm, inventiveness and skills beyond what she expected of a Lieutenant.

"I have a visual, ma'am," Charge alerted. "Range: 4 nautical miles; moving at a constant speed of approximately 8 knots."

"RO, let them know that intend to board them," Kate spoke below the view of her binoculars.

"Aye, ma'am," the radio operator replied dutifully. "Vessel on my port bow, this is Australian Warship Hammersley. Stop or heave to. I intend to board you."

"She's not slowing," Charge observed.

"No response, ma'am," RO informed her.

Dutchy, swapping positions at the helm in preparation for the imminent boarding, added, "It's picking up speed."

"It won't be a problem," Raffy put in determinedly.

"Alright. Hands to boarding stations, X," Kate said finally.

Raffy picked up the PA microphone and spoke into it with a smile. "Hands to boarding stations. Hands to boarding stations. Hands to boarding stations."

He was the first to leave the bridge, soon followed by Swain, Sharkey and, lastly, Dutchy.

"Dutchy, before you go," Kate said as soon as Raffy was out of earshot. "You watch his back closely."

"Yes, ma'am." He left with a slight nod.

Raffy donned his Kevlar vest and boarding jacket faster than any of the sailors on his boarding party. Dutchy might have said that he was nervous or excited, but the young Lieutenant wasn't giving away any emotion, and, the way he strapped the vest to his chest and holstered his Browning, the buffer could have sworn that he'd done this all a million times before.

"Let's go," Raffy soon announced.

Kate watched from the bridge as the RHIB was lowered into the water and raced toward the white cruise. She observed that Raffy wasn't seated beside the driver. In fact, Raffy wasn't seated at all—he was standing on the RHIB's port side with just a hand grasping a metal railing, ready to go. It only took a few moments for them to arrive at their destination.

Raffy was the first to move. He leapt from the front of the RHIB on to boat's back deck and drew his weapon faster than anyone Kate had ever met before. Dutchy was forced to move more rapidly than usual. Normally, he would be the first one on to a suspect vessel and never succeeded the XO. Swain and Sharkey leapt on to the deck next and 2Dads brought up the rear with Charge's assistant, Able Seaman Tolomeo.

"Go away. I gave no permission!" A smaller, rounder man was shouting at them, and yelling at his friends in a language indistinguishable to Dutchy.

"Get your hands in the air!" the buffer yelled, pushing two men against the wall. "Get down on the deck!"

"Get down on the deck," 2Dads repeated. Raffy stood a little way off and observed as his team gathered the four crew members together on the boat deck.

"Captain, XO here," he spoke into his radio. "Deck's secure. Minimal resistance."

"Good work," Kate replied into her end of the radio.

"Dutchy, 2Dads, wheelhouse," Raffy ordered. "Swain, Sharkey, check below."

"Aye, sir," they replied dutifully, leaving Raffy topside with Able Seaman Tolomeo, nicknamed 'Tiger.'

"Are you the master of this vessel, sir?" the XO requested of the small, loud man in a harsh tone.

"You must leave!"

"Are you the master of this vessel?"

"Sir," Dutchy called out from above. "Everything appears to be in order, but this boat belongs to a James Rothman."

Raffy nodded to his buffer and looked back at the small man in front of him. "Where is Mr Rothman?"

"He lend me the boat. He is in Bali."

"Then what is your name?"

"Fulān," he answered with a smirk.

Dutchy, who had raced back down the stairs to follow the CO's orders and watch his XO's back, was standing beside Raffy. He retrieved a notebook from his pocket and began to write.

"Don't bother writing that down, Dutchy," Raffy advised. "It's Bahasa Indonesia for John Doe."

"Are you refusing to give us your name, sir?" Dutchy demanded of the man, feeling a little sheepish for his mistake.

"I would say so," Raffy put in.

"Sir!" The Swain was yelling from below decks.

"Tiger, 2Dads, keep these men here," Raffy ordered. "Dutchy, with me."

Raffy wanted to take the stairs two at a time to reach Swain fast, but he held on to his curiosity. The timber framework of the ships' interior was a dark tint and felt ever so darker by the extreme lack of light. Raffy went for a light switch, wondering why the Swain hadn't already attempted it, but when it didn't work, he removed his flashlight, twisted his left hand and held it in place under his handgun. To Dutchy, his new XO had the skills of a Fed... or worse.

"What is it, Swain?" Raffy asked as he approached the sailor in the lowest-most cabin of the boat.

"This, sir," Swain answered, pointing to an air-tight black container with reinforced sides locked securely on top. Without waiting for instruction, the medic moved to discard the lid from its firm attachment.

"Wait! Stop!" Raffy yelled.

Swain stepped away immediately. "Why?"

The young XO looked grave and it was the first time that any of them had seen him show any real emotion. "Because I'm willing to bet that the explosion would blow even the Hammersley out of the water."


	4. Chapter 4

Back for a fourth chapter. I think I might have left you hanging with the last one. And, in an effort to make Raffy more likeable, I thought that I'd mention that if this were an actual episode (albeit a movie length one), and I had to cast the role of Raffy to someone, I will tell you all that I'd choose the Burmese-Australian actor/model, Marc Nelson. Go and google him if you don't recognise the name (which you probably don't). To the women out there, he should definitely be more likeable, but he looks a lot like the character I'm trying to portray.

Enjoy and please review.

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**Chapter Four**

Kate's heart almost plummeted through the floor when she heard of Raffy's discovery. It was going to be one of those missions. They hadn't begun to question the crew about the body yet—they had been too busy—and now they would need to bring up this weapon in the interrogation. Charge had taken the second RHIB across and Kate had ordered the remaining members of the ship to bring her alongside the cruise carefully. The safe and secure transportation of the explosive ordnance had to be their top priority. The crew from the vessel were moved back on to the Hammersley and down to Austere before they attempted to transfer the weapon.

"Fulān and his men are secured in Austere, ma'am," Sharkey alerted her.

"Fulān?"

"It's what the captain is calling himself. According to the X, it means John Doe."

Kate just nodded, her eyes firmly focused on the movement of the weapon. It was in the second RHIB now. Raffy was standing guard over it very closely. She moved to the lower level and met them on the boat deck. They heaved the weapon out of the water before the crane touched the RHIB.

"What is it exactly, X?" Kate asked pertinently.

"Some sort of thermobaric explosive, ma'am." He knelt next to it and inspected the case closely, utilising the favourable glare of the sunlight that wouldn't be around for long. The weather had changed and the gathering storm had not hit, but there was another on its way.

"Thermobaric?"

"Also known as a 'fuel-air bomb.' Similar to more conventional explosives, it utilises an exothermic reaction, or reactions in this case, with a mixture of fuel and an oxidant. Only difference here is it relies on oxygen in the air to act as the agent. It packs a bigger punch."

There was no good news coming from Raffy. Kate's expression was growing grimmer by the moment. "Military or home made?"

"We won't know until it can be inspected more safely," he answered. "I do know that it's not wired to detonate, but I don't want to remove the air-locks to find out exactly what we're dealing with."

"No, don't."

"Most governments have a weapon similar to this," Raffy continued. "It's been reported that the Brits are using them in Afghanistan. The Americans have one based on a similar principle called the Massive Ordnance Air Blast or MOAB. It's nicknamed the M-"

"Mother of all Bombs." Kate cut him off with a grave statement. "Let's get it below."

She returned to her cabin and relayed everything she'd learnt back to Mike at NAVCOM. He shared her concern, she could hear it in his voice, and immediately brought Commander White into the fold.

"Kate, how far away are you?" Maxine asked as soon as the situation had been explained.

"Two hours steaming."

"And the weapon?"

"As secure as we can make it. Lieutenant Rodrigues is receiving advice from an Army ordnance technician as we speak and Leading Seaman Kosov-Meyer is guarding it carefully."

"Right, the Army is going to meet you as soon as you dock," Mike explained further. "This is a matter of some priority so we'll be handing it over to them."

"I understand," Kate replied without protest.

"The Feds will take custody of the crew at that time as well as the boat," Maxine put in. "We'll see you soon."

Kate hung up and wiped the sweat from her forehead. It had been a stressful day, but she couldn't linger in her cabin when work had to be done. The bridge was waiting for her, but first she wanted to check in with her XO. The room where they were storing the bomb was empty save for 2Dads, who had been tasked with keeping it under lock-and-key.

"Where's the X?" she asked immediately.

"Phone call, ma'am. He left in the direction of the boat deck."

She nodded and made her way out of the room speedily. She had told him to remain with the weapon since he was the only one onboard that seemed to know anything about it. He was standing against the railing of the boat deck alone. And he wasn't on the phone.

"I thought you were to remain with the explosive?" Kate questioned as she walked beside him.

"Nothing more I can do, ma'am," he replied earnestly. "It's safe in that container. We need to wait until we get back to port."

She nodded. "We're handing it over to the Army when we arrive."

"I suspected as much. The government will want it dealt with quickly."

"And we're handing the crew and boat over to the Feds at the same time."

He snorted unintentionally and explained himself when he saw the acrimonious look on his CO's face. "Sorry, ma'am, but when something like this is found just miles off the Australian coastline, it's not the cops that will conduct the 'interrogation'."

And it was apparent to her that he was using the word 'interrogation' lightly. But she didn't press it. "A successful boarding today, X. I was impressed."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"I'm not sure why you took it upon yourself to jump the deck first, though. Dutchy normally assumes that role."

"My apologies to Dutchy then, but I prefer to take a hands-on approach to these boardings. They can go wrong in an instant."

"I know. I used to enjoy your position, Raffy. But it's also Dutchy's role to watch your back. He can't do that when you're launching yourself into danger ahead of him."

"I can handle myself."

Kate just nodded. Raffy Rodrigues was not nearly as hard to crack as her buffer had been, but he sure was infuriating her. She wanted to know exactly where he came from and what kind of man he was. At the moment, all she knew saw was ambiguity and secrets. And not the same type of Dutchy's.

"You were born in East Timor." It wasn't a question. She already knew his place of birth—it was one of the things on his file.

"Yes. My finally emigrated here when I was three."

"Mm... My mother and I emigrated to Australia from England when I was a child."

He knew what it was coming. His file. He could just smile and nod. Or do nothing. He chose the latter.

"Where did you study at?" Again, she knew the answer, but inconsequential questions like these would eventually open the flood gates.

"USyd," he answered with a smile. "I was one of six cadets in my course that didn't hail from ADFA."

"You didn't want to study there?"

He chuckled lightly at her. "Ah... you're an ADFA grad and you can't understand it."

"It's not like you had anything else in mind. You graduated in 2003 and went straight to Jervis Bay. You didn't stop for anything else."

"And I got to study in Yogyakarta as part of an exchange program. And I worked for a time at the Lowy Institute for International Policy. I know you know this already, but that should explain my reasoning."

"Opportunities you wouldn't have had at ADFA," Kate realised.

"I see you've read my file. I'm guessing you want to know more about my naval history."

Kate threw her arms out in frustration. "There are holes the size of Jupiter in it. Why do I feel like I've been given a censored version?"

"Because you have," he replied simply. "You don't have the security clearance to view the rest of it."

She stared at him. "You're an intelligence officer."

"No." His response was honest but Kate was too wary to trust him. "I was supposed to be a PWO specialising in Above Water Warfare."

"It's recorded that you are."

"Until my training was cut short."

For the first time, Kate actually felt a pang of sympathy for her fellow officer. Freedom wasn't exactly a luxury they had and, this being the navy, they went where they were sent and learned to like it. "You were shafted into intelligence work."

"When the brass learnt of my extensive language skills and in-country experience. Oh, and let's not forget the colour of my skin. I'm able to submerge myself into a culture more effectively than my white counterparts."

She wanted to say something like 'I'm sure it had nothing to do with it,' but she was very sure that it did. There was no use lying. And in their environment, sometimes the brass didn't have time to deal in political correctness. Everything Raffy had mentioned about himself had made him an asset to Defence.

"Don't get me wrong, ma'am," he added quickly when he saw her expression, "I really want to be here. I know that I'm your third XO in a month and I'd really prefer not to become just another figure."

"I haven't expressed displeasure, Lieutenant."

"To be honest, I wasn't actually sure how long I'd last out there. Let's just say that the life expectancy of a patrol boat Executive Officer is so much higher."

Kate smiled at him. At least that was a plus in his favour—eagerness. "So are you ever going to tell me who you contacted about the body?"


	5. Chapter 5

The fifth chapter is up and ready for your eyes only. How very James Bond of me :). For those of you searching below the Hammersley decks for Commander Mike Flynn, he makes an appearance this chapter, and very soon, he will make a more regular appearance and there will be a lot, and I mean a lot, more MK.

Be patient and enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

The prisoner and evidence transfer with the Australian Federal Police went off without a hitch. Almost. The movement itself was textbook. The appropriate reports were filled out correctly, signed and dated by all parties. There was no delay. There was no holdup. But there was someone who was making her feel uneasy. A man in khaki cargo pants and a cobalt polo shirt was standing a little way off, observing the transfer. And standing with him was her XO. A discussion was at hand. She could raise her binoculars and try to read their lips as SAS Captain Jim Roth had taught her, but their lips were barely moving. In fact, to the common man, it didn't look like the two had anything to do with each other.

Then there was one more thing to be concerned about. Once the Feds had made their bed on her warship, it was the Army's turn. It didn't make her feel uneasy—she knew these guys were good at what they did and there was little chance of an explosive ordnance accident—but there was an old rivalry and nobody wanted the other kids peeing in their sandbox.

The olive green technicians were examining the device closely with an immeasurable amount of equipment, most that Kate hadn't encountered before. But then they did something that was totally out of the blue. They opened it. She hesitated, dread filling her comfort space. Hadn't Raffy told her that it could explode when it came into contact with air?

There was no boom.

There was silence, until...

"There's nothing in here," one of the technicians shouted to his commanding officer on the wharf.

"What?" the CO had yelled back.

And 'what?' was certainly what Kate was thinking. And 'why?' She rushed down to join the Army team on the boat deck. If there was a reason as to why her crew had been securing and shielding an empty weapon for the past three hours, she wanted to hear it.

"No explosive materials, sir," the first technician clarified to the rather robust Major on shore.

Kate had arrived. "Then why, Sergeant, did my XO have reason to believe that it was a thermobaric bomb of some sort?"

"Because of the way it was packaged, ma'am," he replied politely. "I would have thought so too. It was designed that way without the placement of explosive ordnance substances."

A flicker of white on the gangway distracted her. Mike Flynn and Maxine White were making their way on to the ship.

"Permission to come aboard," Mike flashed with a smile.

"Always, Commander," she replied.

"Did I hear correct?" Maxine began, serious as always. "The bomb was a dud?"

"No explosive materials inside," Kate replied with a firm nod.

"That is very strange," she continued. "Did you question the crew about it?"

"Yes, my XO and buffer made several attempts but they did not yield any information," Kate replied.

Mike chose his words carefully. "Were you present during the interrogation?"

"No, I left that to the Charge."

"Well," Maxine said with finality. "It's the Feds' jurisdiction now. We should be returning to NAVCOM."

"Sure, just a moment, Max," Mike called back.

She was already halfway up the gangway. "Yeah, well, don't take too long."

"Will I see you tonight?" he asked Kate.

She shook her head. "Sorry, Commander, but I still have a routine patrol. This haphazard incident just interrupted it."

"Now that is a shame." His voice dropped and his tone sent shivers down her spine. They were working—did he really need to do that?

She watched closely as he disembarked, that effortless swagger in his step, and follow Maxine into the waiting black town car. Her XO was making his way back on to the boat, but she hadn't noticed. Her eyes were trailing the path her lover left behind, all the way out of the base.

"Ma'am," Raffy said politely, realising that he was probably interrupting something. "We're ready to sail in fifteen minutes. All crew are onboard and accounted for."

"Good."

He started to walk away.

"Have a nice chat over there with your friend?" she beseeched, her expression still motionlessly focused on the port ahead.

Raffy stopped his forward trajectory and turned. Perhaps she expected an angry retort, but that was not what she received.

"Can I run something by you, boss?"

She hadn't expected that. Not the civilised response. Not the polite gesture. And definitely not the use of the term 'boss.' As of yet, nobody had referred to her as the boss, not that she'd asked them to. It was change—she understood that better than any of them—and it would be a long while before everybody fully grasped the abstract concept that she'd somehow moved up in the pecking order.

"Please do," she answered sincerely, but he could pluck the sarcasm from her tone.

"Didn't that all seem a little weird to you? There was no explosive material at all in something that's been packaged and air-locked as a bomb. That boat has been on an inclusive watch-list for the past two months. Every time they made berth somewhere, somebody was watching. Nobody saw this."

"Intelligence agencies are notoriously unreliable when it comes to sharing intelligence and we cannot be in every port in Southeast Asia."

He wanted to kick the ground in frustration. "I know that."

"But to answer your question, yes. It raises another. What was the purpose of trekking into Australian territorial waters with a bomb that wasn't really a bomb?"

Raffy was surprised at how fast his CO was catching on. Clearly she was brighter than she looked. "Were they trying to gauge how effective our response would be? See if we covered all of our bases?"

"Or were they delivering the exoskeleton of the bomb to somewhere in Australia to be filled with explosives?" Kate put in, her eyes not hiding that smarmy, intelligent look.

"Or did they want to know what we did with the bomb, so that it could be remotely detonated when _we_ delivered it?"

"But that would require for this to happen again, and it's not likely to be perceived as a coincidence," Kate added, her expression intent on weighing up all possibilities.

"You're right. The arresting crew would probably behave in a different manner than us now that they know something is highly suspicious."

"This isn't answering any questions, just creating new ones," Kate threw in, clearly irritated, and started towards the bridge. "Are you coming, Lieutenant Rodrigues? We have a patrol to finish."

"Yes, ma'am."

So far their routine patrol had been anything but routine. Such was life aboard the HMAS Hammersley. Admittedly, nothing had happened in almost a month. They were due. They were overdue, in fact. And when, at last, it appeared that things were going back to normal, somewhere in the Timor Sea, a Coastwatch alert disrupted any hope for a night's normal sleeping pattern.

"Sharkey," Kate said as soon as the R.O. had transposed the information to her, "wake the X and tell him that he is required on the bridge pronto."

"Yes, ma'am," the young Able Seaman replied. As she left the bridge, she fixed her shoulder length, curly blonde hair into a bun. Her scram was never as complex as Bomber's, their previous Chefo, but always good quality. With a new crew and new taste-buds to please, she never ventured outside the norm until she knew the invasion would be welcome. In fact, one sailor had been quite rude to her on her first day, but she shrugged it off and he slowly got better. He didn't even question the style of her food anymore.

Sharkey had to admit, she was a little concerned about knocking on the XO's door and waking him. Would he be grumpy? What would he be wearing?

She knocked.

"Yes?" came the response just a few moments later.

Hesitantly, Sharkey opened the door. Lieutenant Rodrigues, she observed, was half dressed in his Navy camo's. His t-shirt and jacket were hung on his chair. And she was left to do everything in her power not to stare at his insanely well-defined abdominals and pectorals. It was a difficult assignment.

"Did you wake me for some particular reason, Able Seaman Ward?"

He was grumpy.

"The CO said to wake you. We have a report of a suspect vessel."

"How far away?"

"Twenty-four minutes."

"Right." And he jumped out of his rack and threw on the shirt and jacket. When he looked back, Sharkey was still occupying his doorway. "You can leave now, sailor."

"Yes, sir." She was feeling a little sheepish, and a lot embarrassed.

Raffy did not take long to present himself for duty on the bridge. "What have we got, ma'am?"

Kate didn't sway from her chair. She was determined not to look surprised by the speed of his arrival on the bridge. If he had woken her at this hour, she would need to run water over her face at least to look somewhat respectable. He appeared totally unfazed.

"Coastwatch just alerted us to the presence of a suspected FFV in our sector," Kate responded professionally. "I want to check it out. Apparently, it's been behaving quite strangely and it was definitely seen passing something into the water."

"Do we know what?"

"It's dark and Coastwatch was doing a night time flyover. We can't ask for much."

"Twenty minutes to intercept, ma'am," the Swain announced from the helm.

"As soon as we're in range, Sharkey, I want an image on the EOD," Kate ordered.

"Yes, ma'am."

Raffy was pacing behind her. Perhaps that what he did when he was tired. After ten minutes, however, it was starting to get annoying. "Will you sit down?"

"I've got a visual ma'am," 2Dads alerted, his binoculars raised. "Red, two-four-five."

"Bring us port thirty degrees, Swain."

"Aye, ma'am, port 30."

"Got anything on the EOD?" Raffy asked Sharkey, invading her personal space by standing close behind her. His eyes were fixated on the screen.

"Zooming in closer... got it."

That grave expression was emanating from him again. "Ma'am... take a look at this."

"That's it?" Kate pondered as she looked over at the screen.

"I know that boat. It's not an FFV, and we will need the cover of darkness if we wish to board her," Raffy explained grimly. "Wake the crew, Sharkey."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 up now, and if I write a bit tonight (which is likely) then I'll post Chapter 7 later tonight. Another interesting development in this chapter, but I know a few of you will wonder where this story is going. This big event at the end will have everything to do with it. So we're up to chapter 6 and we are finally getting into the main storyline - I really take too long to get to these things but the result is usually a nice long story.

Enjoy and please review.

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Kate wasn't sure that she'd heard him correctly. Was he announcing a boarding without her approval? She was all for initiative, but without so much as an explanation? What was he thinking?

"I'm sorry," Kate began, "but are you ever going to tell me why?"

For once, Raffy looked a little panicky. "Walk with me?"

She gave him perturbed stare and leapt from her chair. "Swain, you have the bridge."

"Aye, ma'am, I have the bridge," came the inevitable answer.

"Explain yourself," Kate ordered her young XO as soon as they were out of earshot.

"It's not an FFV. It actually travels under the Tuvaluan flag."

"Which I suspect is simply to disguise its origin, but I don't see-"

"Yes, ma'am," he said quickly, cutting her off, "but I _know_ the vessel. It's been used to run reconnaissance missions for a particularly nasty group in our part of the world."

"What kind of nasty group?" Kate asked, fearing the answer.

"The kind that I know very well."

Yep. That was it. Fear and dread. Misery was dragging her into his company.

"And you believe that we should board this vessel tonight? Under what pretences?"

"To enforce Australian customs laws," he answered, as though it were that obvious. "They will resist. They have done so before and quite effectively. And our calls for her to stop won't faze the captain. They will try to make a run for it."

"And the cover of darkness?"

"They're good shots but we're better trained," Raffy put forward. "I'm confident that it is the best way. And the element of surprise will be in our favour."

"If they're as determined as you say, won't they be equipped with a radar? Won't they have seen us coming?"

"Maybe, but they haven't moved yet. Perhaps they're not monitoring it."

Kate wasn't completely sold on the idea, but a strong part of her wanted to allow her XO the room to move. This was his plan and she was going to let him run with it. After all, he was the head of the boarding party and she would remain on the ship. Mike had always respected her authority when it came to these matters, and, although she did not know Raffy quite so well, she would need to learn to respect his.

"Call hands to boarding stations then, X."

A nervous smile was his response. She returned to her seat on the bridge while her X prepared a team to board the vessel.

Raffy busied himself in the armoury while the others filed in and dressed. His Kevlar vest and boarding jacket were already on and he was checking and passing weapons to his buffer. "Swain, grab the shotgun."

"Yes, sir."

He handed Brownings to all and AuSteyers to 2Dads and Sharkey. Then, unexpected to the others, he reached into the back and pulled out a much larger semi-automatic assault rifle with a detachable night vision scope.

"Sir?" Raffy saw confusion and concern Dutchy's tone and expression.

"Stoner Rifle. 25."

"I know what it is, sir," Dutchy continued.

"And you want to know why I have it? Because we will need it."

"That doesn't explain how you have it, sir," Swain put in. "Isn't it only used by Special Forces?"

The Lieutenant merely shrugged and moved towards the exit. "Are we ready to go?"

They nodded in agreement and followed him on to the boat deck. Kate watched from above as the RHIB was launched and her crew was on its way to what would become a difficult boarding. She was concerned, and a little fearful, and spent their voyage across the water towards the suspect vessel wondering if Mike felt the same way each and every time she took them out for a boarding. All thoughts, however, were soon lost as the RHIB approached firing range.

"Papa 8-2, this is X-Ray 8-2."

Kate moved at the sound of Raffy's voice. She picked up her radio. "Go ahead, X."

"They've spotted us and appear to be forming a resistance."

"Approach with caution."

Raffy had his weapon ready in his right arm. It was a heavy one to carry and he'd never attempted to fire one from a standing position in the water, but there was a first time for everything. "Halfy, bring us in along the port side."

A gunshot grazed the right side. The party was just beginning.

"Secondaries off," Raffy commanded. "Prepare to fire."

The hand that safely held on to the railing moved and grasped the body of the SR-25. His first shot came swiftly and annihilated the threat standing at the rear of the boat, where they intended to board. A second shot was fired from his weapon just moments later and Dutchy saw the man that stood just metres from him on the boat buckle. He also saw his chance to board.

Dutchy jumped from the RHIB and landed squarely on the vessel's rear. 2Dads provided cover fire over his shoulder. The RHIB settled in and Swain boarded next, followed closely by Raffy, his rifle at the ready. 2Dads and Sharkey boarded last.

"Swain, 2Dads, wheelhouse," Raffy shouted. "Dutchy, Sharkey, clear the bottom decks with me."

They split up. Raffy was at the front of his team and the first to take the stairs, a role that would have usually been reserved for Dutchy. The buffer was getting used to coming second after his new XO.

A shot was fired above Raffy's helmet and he immediately returned fire. Sharkey wasn't sure if the shooter had been taken out, but she assumed so by the lack of further enemy fire. They could hear further gunfire upstairs and only hoped that Swain and 2Dads were handling it.

Turning right at the base of the stairs, Sharkey opened a door on her left and shouted, "Clear."

They continued on. Straight ahead, there was a balding, muddy man scrambling for his weapon. Dutchy reached it first, stepping down on it and pulling it away from his grip. "Keep you hands there."

Raffy nodded to Sharkey as Dutchy holstered his weapon and removed the ties from his belt, incarcerating the man in a tight hold.

"We're clear up here, X," the Swain shouted from above.

Raffy and Sharkey cleared the remainder of the rooms below decks, which were empty, and walked up the stairs after Dutchy. 2Dads and Swain had arrested two other members of the crew and sat them at the rear of the boat.

"Get these men across first," Raffy ordered as he coordinated a thorough search of the vessel, uncovering a cache of weapons in the cargo hold, supplies and a MacBook Pro notebook. Hopefully the latter would yield some much-needed intelligence.

The "clean-up" took an hour and, by the time they'd returned to the Hammersley and prepared the other vessel to be towed, it was almost first light. Considering they'd been woken at half past three, and some had only had an hour or two of sleep, the day ahead was going to be a long one.

Kate met the Swain on the Hammersley's boat deck as the RHIB brought across the last of what needed to be transported from the other vessel—the bodies of the men they'd killed during the boarding. "How many, Swain?"

"Four, ma'am."

The body bags were open and RO was taking photos to send to NAVCOM for identification.

"And these three?" She was referring to the three men that had been killed with a single shot, and all of them penetrated between the eyes.

"That was the X. He took out two of them while we were in the water, allowing us to board. Good shots, even with the rifle. Three shots; three kills. And he only fired those three shots."

"He used the AuSteyer?"

"No, ma'am," Swain replied, the confusion evident in his tone. "He used an SR-25." Surely she would've known that, he thought.

"Right," she responded, hiding her considerations under a carefully planned nonchalant expression. A mental note was made to bring up the incident with her XO later and in her cabin.

"Ma'am?" a voice came from behind her.

"RO, did you get those photos to NAVCOM?" Kate said brightly.

"Yes, and they need to speak with you. It appears to be of some urgency." He did look apprehensive.

"I'll take it in my cabin," she told him. A million possible scenarios darted through her mind. Had that weapon actually been used in their region? Was there some sort of catastrophe imminent? Had something happened to Mike on his way home from NAVCOM last night?

But when she answered the phone and spoke to Commander White, what had actually happened to require her immediate attention was something that she didn't see coming. Everything had just gone from bad to worse.


	7. Chapter 7

I got through a bit of writing tonight, up to about halfway through 9, so I'm posting 7 for the benefit of those who can't wait. I'll admit-I did leave you hanging. Mike is scheduled to make his reappearance in Chapter 9 and then he sticks around. There are a lot more MK scenes to come very soon.

Enjoy and feel free to leave a review (signed or unsigned). All feedback is appreciated.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Dutchy was starting to get frustrated. The information was there, waiting for them, if they wanted it. But it seemed like nobody else on the ship did. And now one of their own was in serious danger.

Raffy was trailing his buffer down the hallway to Austere. He could sense the sailor's aggravation and, personally, didn't want him anywhere near the interrogation. But, for some reason, the CO had wanted him there and who was Raffy to question her. He would have to learn to deal.

"Dutchy, a moment before we go in," the X said, softly grabbing the larger man's shoulder.

"Yes, sir." He heard the man's dissatisfaction.

"Is there a problem?" That wasn't what he was going to say, but it'd do.

"No, sir."

The "yes, sir; no, sir" was starting to do his head in. He wanted answers and rank be damned with it. "Speak honestly."

Jumping at the opportunity, that's what Dutchy did. "We're sitting on our hands. We should be doing something and we can be. We have these guys in our custody, we can ask them whatever we like."

"I agree, but the problem is that they won't always answer. And they won't always give you the answer you want."

"They will," Dutchy said confidently.

"What are you going to do?" Raffy asked with an amused smile. He already knew the answer.

"We can make them talk."

Raffy gave him a detached shrug. "We could. But we won't. You're under the impression that that sort of interrogation works. Now I don't really give a damn about human rights and our international obligations—I want answers too—but it does not work, sailor."

"Then what do you propose we do?"

Raffy smiled again. "Watch and learn, Petty Officer Mulholland." He walked off, leaving Dutchy behind, and opened the door to Austere. 2Dads was keeping watch over the prisoners. "You can leave now, Leader."

Raffy waltzed coolly into the room, his buffer in tow. He had requested a table and chair combo be brought into the room and it had. Leaving the two other captives on their racks, he had Dutchy remove the binds of the man they'd arrested below decks and sat him on one of the chairs. Raffy sat across the table from him and, at the X's behest, Dutchy stood behind him.

"How 'bout we start with your name?" Raffy requested.

The man did not answer.

"Well, it doesn't matter because I already know it. Wakim Abangan."

Abangan looked up at the sound of his name, a slightly fearful overtone to his shuffle backwards. But his original confident air replaced it rather quickly.

"What were you doing in our waters?"

"Fishing."

"Then you mustn't be very good." Raffy had a smug smile on his face. "We saw no fish below decks. You didn't catch anything?"

"No time. You interrupted."

Raffy laughed good-naturedly and left Dutchy wondering just what was going on. If he was conducting the interrogation, this was not the way he would go about it. The XO wasn't even asking the important questions.

"What sort of fish were you after?"

"Whatever was biting," Abangan replied. He was starting to get a little twitchy again, and that poised façade was slipping.

"Mm," Raffy murmured, looking with unwavering attention at Abangan. "So I assume you know why we boarded your vessel?"

Abangan shook his head.

"You were fishing, mate," Raffy exploded with a friendly shove of the man's shouder.

Dutchy was now, well and truly, through with his XO's attitude. His questions were getting beyond the scope of their interrogation and they hadn't even asked the important ones yet. Irritated, he grabbed Abangan around the collar, hoisted him from the chair and shoved him on to the table. Raffy had to move back to avoid being hit.

"Where is Lieutenant Commander Watson?" Dutchy shouted, his face inches from Abangan's and his expression wild. "Where is he?"

Raffy was standing now, but entirely calm and unresponsive. He failed to move as Dutchy threw the man, and failed to stop him as he threatened to pummel his brains out.

"Put him back in his seat, Dutchy," he said finally, his voice still composed.

"Piece of shit," the buffer blasted as he tossed Abangan back into his seat.

The dirt-ridden man didn't seem afraid at all. In fact, he cracked a smile, and Raffy knew that this was what he had wanted all along. He had hoped that one of them would lose their composure and assault him. He would never answer. The darker man, however, was asking questions that he did not expect. He couldn't work out the point of them, and he couldn't work out what he had planned.

"Okay, so you know we're looking for a sailor," Raffy said as soon as his company was calm.

"I don't know anything."

"Yeah, I guessed that. Even if you were friends with these people, I'm pretty sure that you don't rank high enough in their order for them to trust you with such information."

Dutchy was looking confused in the background. He hadn't quite figured the man's game plan yet, but it definitely appeared that he had one.

When the XO's statements didn't elicit a response, he continued. Eventually, he knew, they would. "Let's face it, mate. You're out here. And where are they? Who's the one risking their ass for this operation? It's not them."

"You don't know anything about us!" he defended with great persistence.

Raffy didn't express anything, but he was keeping score in his head. And they'd just scored one point.

"Maybe I don't. I know they don't care about you. They're going to use you as a scapegoat and a martyr for the cause. Did you sign up for that?"

"You know nothing!" he repeated. Raffy's words were starting to get the rise he had wanted. "We are further ahead than you will ever be, because we are willing to risk more than you. Your officer is just the beginning. You will be killed as you kill; and you will be bombed as you bomb."

Raffy's stare did not budge. Still looking at Abangan with an unwavering focus, he said to Dutchy, "Return him to his rack and make sure he's secure. We're done here."

Dutchy glared at his XO for a moment and then did as he was told. Raffy stood up and walked outside, his buffer following a minute later.

"What was that?" Dutchy asked as soon as the door was closed. "We didn't learn anything!"

"On the contrary," Raffy said with a grave expression, "we discovered quite a lot. Learn this, Dutchy, go in with a little information, and you might come out with a lot."

Dutchy wanted to question his XO's fortune cookie antics, but didn't get the chance. The officer was already walking in the direction of the senior sailors' mess, where they had planned to meet with the CO, Swain and Charge immediately after the interrogation. Those three were probably waiting for them.

As it turned out, they were, and when Dutchy finally took his seat, Kate launched into a further explanation of what she had been told by Commander White. "This morning it became known that the CO of the _HMAS Uluru_, Lieutenant Commander Marc Watson, was UA for a period of at least eight hours. The Uluru was docked in Denpasar and the crew were enjoying a night ashore."

"How did he go missing?" Swain asked pertinently.

"He was with his crew at a nightclub in Kuta and left it early to return to the ship," Kate continued. "His watch was due to start at 0300h and when he didn't show, the crew was naturally concerned."

"And we're sure that he's been kidnapped?" Charge put in.

"NAVCOM seem to believe so. And I know Lieutenant Commander Watson. He is first-rate and 100% reliable. He would not go UA by choice for anything."

"Then that leaves us with two possibilities," Raffy spoke up. He had been uncharacteristically quiet so far. "Either he was taken at random, which is possible given his age and race. It would usually fetch quite a considerable amount in ransom."

"Or?" Charge requested.

"Or the crew was being watched for an opportune moment of weakness and he was snatched," Raffy explained in a resigned tone. "And that is probable. With terrorism appearing as the only possibility, I'm leaning towards the latter."

"What makes you say terrorism?" Kate asked in a low voice, which almost hitched on the last word. It wasn't one that she wanted to use.

"Our captain, Wakim Abangan, knows something," Dutchy told her.

"Did you get anything conclusive?"

Raffy shook his head. "But it was something he said. 'You will be killed as you kill; and you will be bombed as you bomb.' I presume you know the words."

No response from Kate was needed. Her expression said it all.


	8. Chapter 8

Enjoy and please review.

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

RO was on her back again. It seemed that these days, in a stoic effort to assume her predecessor's command, such luxuries as sustenance were not afforded to her. As it stood, she could not go through her mini lunch break without interruption or incident. It was an important call, of course, and one she would take in her cabin. They were at a standstill at sea waiting for the Feds or further instruction from NAVCOM. That was probably Commander White on the phone.

As it turned out, it was.

"Kate, I have your new orders," she said quickly. If Kate had to guess, there was a rush of government officials at the other end wanting the same news she did. "You're to make for Denpasar, top speed. Your only stop along the way will be to rendezvous with the Feds and hand over the suspect crew, bodies and the boat. I've already given the coordinates to your R.O."

Confusion. And a little nervousness. But mostly confusion. What Maxine was asking seemed a long way out of their mandate. "Yes, ma'am," she said with due respect. "May I ask a question?"

"I'm very busy as you can imagine but go ahead."

"Why is the Hammersley going to Denpasar? I mean, after what's happened, won't a navy presence exacerbate the situation?"

"Obviously we don't want that," Maxine told her very clearly. "There could be serious repercussions from any stunt you choose to pull, but if there's going to be a boat race to find Marc Watson, I want us involved." She didn't mince her words today. There was no time for the beaurocratic dance around the truth.

"I understand, ma'am."

"You'll be coordinating on the ground with government officials and delegates," Maxine continued in the same fast pace that often left Kate behind. "Expect to spend some time off the ship, Kate, but any overt actions by your crew or your ship are discouraged. You're there as a last resort, but while you're there you might as well make yourself useful. Are you following me?"

At that pace, was anyone? But Kate got the gist of what she wanted. "You want my ship to stay put but for me to do all the work."

"In a manner of speaking." Kate was sure that she was smiling on the other end. "News hasn't broken to the locals about Marc's disappearance and I want to keep it that way. You're just another crew enjoying a stopover in a foreign port. I'm banking on the fact that we can wrap this up in a few days."

"My crew and these 'delegates'?" She used the word 'delegates' lightly, for Kate knew that was not their proper role.

"And I have sent Commander Flynn to meet you in Denpasar."

She really could've mentioned that first.

"You'll run point with him. Good luck, Kate." And she hung up before the Lieutenant Commander could get a word in.

Meanwhile, most of the crew were busying themselves with lunch in and around the galley. Sharkey was much less rigid about her most prized possession than previous Chefo's had been and even allowed 2Dads to eat on the counter.

"Burger and chips, mm," Dutchy commented as he joined the amassed audience. It seemed that nobody was moving off to eat in the sailors' mess. "Why are we all standing here?"

"Waiting for news about Lieutenant Commander Watson," Sharkey explained as she handed over the plate. "I can't imagine what it would be like for your CO to go missing like that."

"We can," Bird told her. "At least we can sympathize."

"It's Bali, mate," 2Dads shouted from the back with a mouth full of potato. "He's probably shacking up with some hot tourist at her expensive hotel room."

"No, he's definitely not doing that," Dutchy replied and directed his head towards Austere.

2Dads fell silent.

"So it's some terrorist plot then?" Sharkey inquired.

"Probably," Swain put in as he finished his meal off and passed the empty dish back to the Chefo. "The X knows more then he's letting on."

"Yeah, I got that feeling," Dutchy replied but fell short of filling them in on the whole story when he noticed the CO walking down the stairs. "Ma'am."

"Is there a club meeting going on in the hallway that I don't know about?" Kate said with a smirk. She didn't want to go on a power trip, but she had to admire the way they all stopped and stared as she went by.

"Any more news on Lieutenant Commander Watson, ma'am?" Swain asked, ignoring her jest.

"Not quite. If you give me ten minutes to finish my lunch, I will explain our new orders on the bridge."

They gave her that long to eat without interruption. Maybe she had to specify from now that her eating time was her break and only the most important could disturb that. If she's learnt anything about Raffy in the past two days, it was that his initiative and determination overruled everything. They were prepared to make way by the time she finished her lunch. Their orders were to steam through the night to make the rendezvous with the Feds and followed by a further six hours to Denpasar.

The tow was slowing them down, but a few hours later, they were making good time towards the rendezvous point. At this stage, they might be early. It was 2330h and Kate had forcibly rostered herself Officer of the Watch until midnight, where Raffy would take over. With Swain at the helm, it was starting to feel like old times.

She yawned.

"Looking forward to the end of this watch, ma'am?" he asked with a smile.

"You're not?"

A shrug was his response. "You learn not to sleep as a parent."

"How's Chloe doing at preschool?"

"Fine, I think. Sal's been a little hesitant sending her. A little over-attached, I guess."

"Mm," Kate replied with a nod. "I guess it would be hard when…" She chose not to continue.

"I'm always at sea," Swain finished with a knowing grin. "I suppose so."

"About the boarding today," Kate began with a less than subtle attempt at changing the subject, "how do you think you worked with Lieutenant Rodrigues?"

"Well, I guess, ma'am," Swain responded, a little unsure of exactly what he should be saying. "If he's inexperienced, which I gather by his age, then he doesn't show it. At all."

Kate didn't exactly have a reaction to Swain's positive feedback.

"And his actions shielded us from taking heavy fire," Swain continued. "He must've known what we were up against."

"Good shots, then," Kate conceded, but a little voice in the back of her mind made her wary. "No body shots, though."

"And to pull off a shot like the first one, far off, in a moving position and in the dark…" Swain didn't need to finish. Just like the Bananas in Pajamas that his daughter watched at home, she was thinking what he was.

Their watch finished, and 2Dads and Raffy took their places on the bridge. Kate, after making herself a cup of tea in the galley, and a mess, retired to her cabin. As her beverage sat idly by, she switched on her MacBook and scrolled through her emails. Just as expected, her predecessor, mentor and lover had sent her one earlier.

_Kate,_

_I arrived in Bali two hours ago and, although I have been instructed to write very little in this message, I can tell you the situation here is quite grave. Lieutenant Hayes, the XO on the HMAS Uluru, has been ordered to return home. The Hammersley will take her position in this sector. _

_I will meet you at the port when you arrive tomorrow afternoon. I can't tell you where I'm staying, as I am not sending this email from the comfort of the Embassy, but rather, using a public network, but I can tell you that it is very nice here, once you get past our colleague's impending doom—I hadn't intended that to sound as dark as it did._

_Our 'friends' from the government will be working closely with us, that's all I can say, and you'll meet them tomorrow. As it stands, D.O.D. is keeping Marc's disappearance under wraps. The news networks at home have not got wind of it yet and the same goes here. Instruct the crew that it is important it stays that way. _

_Sweet dreams tonight—I know they will be about me. _

_Love,_

_Mike._

She smiled at the last line. It was so very typical of his ego, for that was what seemed to write the end of his emails. He was never very good at saying how he felt aloud, but usually, he was even worse on paper. A big part of her looked forward to their reunion, and she knew that if she had to work alongside anyone on something like this, it would be him. She would benefit greatly from his guidance.

Kate felt that, this early into her command, she was not ready for this mission. It would be complex, physically, mentally and diplomatically, and would probably call on all of her skills as an officer. Maxine's orders were to stay out of the limelight, and that was what she planned to do, but it was what would transpire under the radar that gave her the greatest cause for concern. And with Raffy present in all her dealings, it was likely to become a whole lot worse.


	9. Chapter 9

Yay, Mike returns! And sticks around for the rest of this story. It's safe to say that this becomes very MK from here on. Although, I'm not sure I like this chapter very much. It's got a lot of info and the introduction of an important guest character, but still. Too much... Blah!

Anyway, since I've taken on the role of Casting Director... and writer and all that... Ethan Saunders will be played by the one and only Christopher Gabardi (I loved him on All Saints all those many years ago). Although, a pre-warning, you may not like his character much in chapters to come.

Enjoy and please review.

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

The Hammersley was on schedule to arrive in Denpasar at 1530h. As they approached and relayed contact with the Indonesian authorities, allowing the tug in front to guide them in, Kate sent a text to Mike, who was waiting on shore. Once they were set and secure alongside, she left the bridge, handing over the watch to Charge, and changed into her whites.

Dutchy and Raffy accompanied her off the boat and met with Mike, similarly dressed, and another man whom Kate did not know or recognize. It wasn't one of the Feds, as she first assumed. Raffy, however, seemed to know the stranger very well.

After greeting him with a shake and a man-hug, her XO pulled him over to the white-clad members of the party and introduced him. It turned out that the tall, intimidating man in desperate need of a haircut, and perhaps a shave, was Ethan Saunders, who worked for the government. What department, seemed to be the question on Kate's mind, and also how he managed to, at the embassy, get away with such standards of dress, hygiene and personal tidiness.

Dutchy was speaking to Mike, talking about something along the lines of his uniform and how good it was to see him again, and so well healed. Kate wasn't exactly listening—she was far more intrigued with the extra ribbon above his left pocket. He hadn't mentioned that to her in the email and he didn't have it two days ago. Then there was the slight bulge in his left pocket that one would only notice when looking very observantly.

"Lieutenant Commander," Ethan said.

Her attention was amplified immediately and all thoughts about Mike's clothing went out the window. Figuratively speaking, at least. There would be time to literally throw his clothes out the window later, she hoped.

"Yes?" she said finally, and still a little distractedly.

"A security team from the Embassy will be monitoring your ship 24/7," he told her in a gruff voice. "I suggest you sort out a schedule with your sailors, but I will need you and Raffy on shore most of the time while we are here."

"I'm not sure I can do that, Mr Saunders," Kate argued. "My crew's safety and my ship's security are paramount."

"It will be perfectly safe in this port, and the security detail is more than capable. You can tell your crew whatever you want, so long as they keep out of our operations here. I'm sure that they're intelligent enough to realise that they shouldn't be walking around this city alone, given what's happened."

"That doesn't explain why you need me or my XO," Kate pushed. This guy was really starting to annoy her. Nobody, least of all a civilian, told her how to run her ship. And nobody, unless that person was a superior officer, told her what to do.

"I'm afraid I'm not the person to ask, ma'am," Ethan continued in the same ambiguous and monotonous tone. "My supervisor has informed me that yours and Commander Flynn's presence is required tomorrow at the Embassy. And I need Raffy's help for some…" He looked as though he was struggling for the right word. "Exercises," he put in finally.

Don't ask, Kate, that voice in her head shouted. So she didn't. "Okay. I only have one more question and I want your professional opinion," she told him in her most serious voice. "Should I allow my crew to go ashore? Will they be safe?"

Ethan grinned and left Kate confused as to why.

"Is something about that funny?" She didn't think so.

"No; but that was two questions. You said one. But to answer it," he continued before she came back with an angry rebuttal. "Yes, I do. But security protocols; they travel in teams, and nobody is ever left alone. Usually the navy doesn't have a problem with that."

"We won't," Dutchy promised. He knew his fellow sailors were itching to get off the boat.

"They took a commanding officer. And now we have increased security. It's not in their nature to try again so soon and when the risk is so high and the reward is so much smaller," Ethan explained. "Your sailors will be fine."

"And us?" Raffy was speaking for the first time. "I'm going to presume that Embassy does not want the officers going to and from the boat after classified meetings and intelligence sharing sessions."

"You're right," Ethan said, and then looked at Dutchy. "Thank you, Petty Officer, but we won't be requiring your services any longer."

Dutchy looked positively pissed. He looked at Kate, who nodded serenely for him to leave. He guessed it wasn't exactly his business—it's not like he joined the officers on their trips to NAVCOM briefings—but in a foreign port with some dangerous locals, he wanted nothing more than to watch his superiors' backs. But he wasn't going to argue. He left without a fuss.

Ethan stepped closer, cutting off the small group of four from the outside world, and dropped his voice to a low tone. Kate knew that there were no enemy eavesdroppers—he just didn't want her crew to hear anything. "Your sailors aren't in danger because they don't know anything. You three on the other hand…" The rest of his statement was self-explanatory. "I'm putting you in the same hotel in Bali. You'll need your civilian attire, even at the Embassy. I don't want to risk you being recognized."

Kate glared at him. She didn't like this plan.

And, somehow, Ethan recognized that. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I don't have a choice."

"Is this port closed off to public and commercial spectators?" Mike asked.

"Yes, and secured by the Indonesian government," Ethan answered. "Like I said, the ship will be safe here."

"How long do I have to brief my crew?" Kate asked.

"An hour. Then we depart."

Kate felt uneasy around him. The cloak and dagger routine wasn't part of her training or her tenure as CO of the Hammersley, and she was starting to feel like her ship was meddling in something it was not supposed to be involved in. But a naval officer was missing. A colleague. A friend. And if there was a chance that she could help, she was taking it.

As she had suspected, the crew were highly skeptical of Kate's explanation of their role requirements while they were in port. Get drunk and take care of the ship? Was she serious? Her senior sailors did not outwardly mention what was going through their minds, for which she was grateful, but behind the scenes as she prepared to leave, she overheard their concerns. Swain was pressing the hard line of doing what they were told. Dutchy was concerned about a number of things, namely hers and Raffy's safety. And the Charge's suspicious theories were not easing her buffer's mind at all.

Kate was geared up to leave within the hour and still apprehensive about the supposed plan. But just as Ethan Saunders had said that he didn't have a choice, neither did she. They were following orders, although somewhat blindly, and Commander White's had been spelled out in not-so plain English.

The unmarked vehicle that drove them from the port to their hotel outside of Kuta did not take the most direct route. Raffy and Ethan seemed unfazed by the longer drive. They spoke animatedly to each other about the Cowboys' chances of making it to the Top 8. Ethan appeared to be an avid supporter. Raffy was assuring him that they had better chances of cracking the entire radical terrorist network in Southeast Asia. Her XO, Kate soon found out, was a Tigers fan, and was happily sitting back admiring their 2010 performance. She wasn't a follower of that code of football, so she couldn't quite figure out why.

Mike was playing the strong and silent role again. And it was getting infuriating again. Even if her XO talked about nothing, at least it was a far cry more than what she was getting from her lover.

When they finally arrived at the gates of the expensive-looking resort, Kate shot a dark glare at her former CO. He probably could've mentioned that they were staying at the Intercontinental. And on whose budget, she wondered.

Ethan seemed to know that. "We have an agreement with the owners of this hotel," he explained.

Well, that wasn't much of an explanation, Kate concluded. The cloak and dagger thing was really getting old. What kind of agreement included one of the most expensive 5-star resorts in Bali? She didn't ask.

They were settled into three rooms on the same floor. Mike had known this when he checked in the evening before. They weren't the most expensive rooms in the hotel, but they were the most that either of them had stayed in. Ever. Kate probably couldn't say the same for Raffy.

She settled into her traditional Victorian-style room, or it could have been Elizabethan—Kate didn't know—and collapsed onto the white-sheathed queen bed until there was a knock at the door. She'd been expecting it. She didn't even bother to the lock front door after entering. "Come in."

Mike was a little surprised to find it unlocked, in fact. "That's probably not safe."

"I've heard that word so many times today, it doesn't even sound like a word anymore," Kate complained. Her body was too heavy to lift from the covers, so she stayed there. Mike settled himself in one of the uncomfortable lounge chairs.

"Interesting day," Mike commented over the loud hum of the awkward silence.

"Not exactly what I expected when I woke up this morning," Kate admitted. "What do you think of Ethan Saunders?"

"ASIS," Mike said plainly.

Kate had suspected as much.

"What happened on the Hammersley yesterday to make them think that it's terrorism-related?" Mike continued.

"What do you mean? You don't know?"

He shook his head with a frustrated glare. "Maxine didn't have time to brief me before I left and I've been playing Mary's Little Lamb to Mr Saunders since I arrived."

He sounded annoyed. And maybe a little upset. "The crew that we picked up was somehow involved. The captain said something to Raffy about Marc Watson. Apparently it was already a suspect vessel. There was intelligence on it coming out of Jakarta."

"That's it?"

Kate sat upright. "That's all I know. I feel like we've been shafted into a Tom Clancy or John le Carre novel."

"I have been told that our orders will become clearer tomorrow when we meet with this government official at the Embassy," Mike assured her.

"Told by who? Saunders?"

"No. Commander White."

Kate didn't have a retort. She just nodded. "And what about the Hammersley crew?"

"They do what they've been told and I'm sure they'll be fine. I already asked Saunders about it. He's adamant that the port has adequate protection."

"And when they're not at the port? You know what our crew's like."

Mike registered the use of 'our' but didn't bring it up. It wasn't quite the time. "To be fair, trouble usually finds us. We don't go looking for it."

"Mm, you're not wrong there." She crashed back on to the mattress. "I feel like a puppet."

"Maybe you should wait to make that call," Mike advised. "Patience. I've been here for twenty-four hours and I still don't know anything."

"If that's the case, what makes you so sure that we'll be told anything?"

"Optimism," he replied with a shrug.

Kate rolled on to her stomach and turned around to face him. "Do you think Marc's still alive?"

"I don't know. It doesn't really make sense."

"No, it doesn't. It's been thirty-six hours. Why haven't we heard anything?"

Mike's nonverbal shrug hinted that he didn't know. "If he was taken by terrorists, he would've made the news by now. They'd make demands for days—demands that won't be met by our government—and it'll all end in his very public execution."

Kate tried not to think about it. "Right so why haven't we heard anything? Why did they take him?"

His body language was speaking again. She knew that he couldn't answer her questions. She didn't even know why she was asking them. Maybe it was some form of brainstorming.

"So…" Mike began with a twinkle in his eyes. "Dinner?"


	10. Chapter 10

I'm posting twice today because it's likely that I won't post again until Sunday or Monday... sorry all. Busy weekend. Definitely a lot of missed MK in this chapter. And I mean a lot. Pretty much the whole thing. Actually, the whole thing. :)

Enjoy and please review.

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

The candlelit canopy sheltered them from the thunderous reaction of waves to sand. But in Mike's mind, the breathtaking scenery to the west was nothing compared to what was inside the tent. He had booked the most secluded spot possible for a very private romantic dining experience. The only other person they would see all night would be the waiter.

Kate had been unsure about leaving the comfort and safety of the hotel, and she'd remain so until the official they were due to meet tomorrow morning put her mind at ease—or told her that she was absolutely right to be concerned. And so, Mike threw out his suggestion that they head into Kuta for a night on the town. After all if he wanted to foot an expensive bill, they could definitely do it in the hotel. With an assortment of restaurants, cafes and bars, the only hard decision was choosing what type of food to order.

At first, Kate was almost taken away by the awe-inspiring spectacle. A deserving dinner on the beach in complete serenity and privacy—she was glad that she convinced Mike to stay in. And she'd hoped that the heat and humidity would lessen as night took over. That was not the case, and the white cotton dress that usually hung loosely around her thin frame was hopelessly sticky. One thing the tent didn't have was air conditioning.

Mike appeared just as uncomfortable in his jeans, which may have shrunk since she last saw them, and light blue long-sleeve shirt. But his smile didn't vocalize any objections to the weather or the outdoors.

"So, what do you think? I do good?"

Kate shook her head playfully at him, her lips curled into an unwanted smile. "You did very good."

His gorgeous grin would not let up. "Shame about the heat."

"It's called the tropics, Mike, but it's not like we already live there." Sarcasm… because arguing with stupid people isn't nearly as fun.

He returned an amused glare and she shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

"Sticky?" he asked with a smile.

It was her turn to look unimpressed at the remark.

"Might need help to get out of that dress later," he commented suggestively. His eyes spoke volumes more and his lips curled in a fashion she knew very well.

"No."

"No?"

Kate shook her head. "No. Because we are working."

"Not until tomorrow morning, technically," Mike vied.

"No," she repeated.

"Okay." Mike threw his arms up in defeat and went back to his dinner. He'd ordered a scrumptious assortment of seafood, including lobster, with expensive champagne to boot and knew that he'd just spent a week's wage in one night, but he planned to make it special. Thankfully, she didn't argue when dinner was requested.

"Okay? It's not like you to give up that easily," she said suspiciously. "Come on, out with it. What do you have planned?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly. He wasn't even to trying to hide his lie—this was fun.

"Don't give me that. I know you better than that. You don't operate without a plan, so what is it?"

He was still smiling and it was starting to annoy her. Enough with the playful games, the voice inside her head shouted. Tell me!

"What makes you think I have an agenda?"

"Mike Flynn without a plan? That would be anarchy."

He shook his head again. "No plan. Just dinner. With you."

Kate let him have this one. He was harder to interrogate than a hundred-year-old Galapagos Tortoise. "Did Saunders say how we were getting to Jakarta in the morning?"

"Helicopter, I think," Mike replied. "I actually landed in Jakarta and was transported to Denpasar in an Indonesian Army Mil Mi-17."

A comfortable pause ensued as they finished off what was left of the seafood platter. Mike reached for the champagne and poured her another glass before touching up his.

"We are to wear civvies tomorrow?" Kate clarified.

"Yeah, Saunders thinks we shouldn't paint a target on to our foreheads."

"Fair enough."

"Speaking of which," Mike continued, "Maxine let me know that we'd be in civvies, so I grabbed some of your civilian business attire before I left."

"H… How?" Kate was perplexed and a little puzzled. Her face showed it. "You broke into my house?"

"No," he replied, smiling again. "I forgot to lock the back door when we left for NAVCOM the other day. Turns out it was a good thing, though."

She was just shaking her head, laughing internally at her misfortune and his luck.

He was reaching into his pocket now, and for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why. Phone call? She'd have heard it ring. Special gift? In his pocket? She hoped not.

"I had this made for you," he said, pulling the unwelcome item from his pocket.

Made? Kate wondered. What on Earth could it be?

It was a key. She was being keyed. Four weeks into this relationship and she was being keyed.

"Just in case this happens again and you happen to require entrance into _my_ place," he said as he handed it over.

She grabbed it, unsure of what to do with it. Did she attach it to her set of keys? Logic dictated yes. Her light fear of such a dense commitment said no. It was one thing for them to commit to a relationship, but she'd lived alone (whenever on shore leave) for seventeen years.

"I guess I should give you a copy of my house keys when we get home." She said this slowly and unsurely. "This was your plan?"

"No." His was still defending his disposition with dignity.

"Alright, fine." Defeat was making its way around the table, it seemed. They finished off the champagne and she rose from her chair first.

"Where are you going?" Mike asked, a little downtrodden.

"A walk. To wear off everything I just ate. Would you like to come?"

He smiled and followed her, knowing the cheque was going to the hotel room anyway. "By the way, you look very nice tonight."

His bashful tone made her laugh. "Thanks for noticing." Her hand slipped into his as they walked towards the moonlit beach. She was holding on a little stronger than usual and he registered it. However much fun she made of his key and denied his suggestions of the bedroom, he knew there was nowhere else she'd rather be than right there with him.

"Do you get a bad feeling about this?" Kate asked after a few minutes.

"This?"

"This operation," she clarified.

"A naval officer missing, possibly at the hands of dangerous terrorists and an extreme risk to our national security… well, yeah, Kate. Of course, I'm concerned."

"Something might happen. We may be powerless to stop it."

"Yes."

She stopped and stepped in front of him. His eyes were placid, concealing and inescapably calm. She took comfort in his arms as they securely surrounded her and threatened never to let go. They would, eventually, but for now Kate was content with his touch.

"I'm worried about us. And about the crew," she spoke into his chest.

"I know. So am I."

She pushed off his chest quickly and stepped away, towards the water. She was going to take her anger and frustration out on something and it wasn't going to be him. "We don't know enough about anything to do anything."

"We have to trust that those with the ability to do something, will do something," Mike told her gently. "And they will. They're not going to let this happen again."

She turned around and stared at him. "I hope you're right. I don't want this to go down while we're here. We have a chance to stop it."

"That feeling of helplessness is really the worst thing we have to face," he said with some optimism. "We can get through it."

"How can you say that?"

He shrugged. "It's just a feeling. But when I was on that boat last month, and in that sub, I gave up. I resigned myself to death, and I never want to feel that way again. So I choose to believe that we can and will make a difference. All we need to do is be patient."

"You're one of a kind, Mike Flynn," she told him and walked back into his waiting arms. "And I hope that I never lose you."

He didn't reply. A smiling kiss made its way to her forehead. "Come on. I'll walk you back to your room."

She wasn't sure of what to expect when they arrived, but he remained in the doorway as she unlocked her door. Walking into her room and feeling very alone, she turned and glanced at him. Inside her mind, another battle of wills was waging. A foreign port, a foreign hotel room, a foreign mission; she hadn't felt quite this alone before.

"Are you going to stand there or are you coming in?" she requested finally.

He looked at her, bemused. "I thought you said-"

"I know what I said. This is what I'm saying now."

He didn't hesitate. The door shut behind him and he hungrily launched himself in her direction. His lips covered hers within a matter of seconds and all of the frustrations they felt were released in a tandem experience. His hands, enthusiastically attentive as they were, eventually made their way down her back to her buttocks. He hoisted her into his arms and pushed her against the wall.

Kate was trying to remember who was next door. Those thoughts were soon forgotten as her head made contact with the plasterboard and his lips sunk from her jaw line to along her neck. His short was disposed of in a matter in moments and her cotton dress was the next to follow.

"Mike…" Her tone pleaded, begged for something other than the reality they were living in right now. It beseeched a world where nothing but two of them, in all their passion and love and infectious need, existed.

Her hands were fiddling with his belt and, later, his jeans. He still had her back pressed to the wall with the possessive traits of a Neanderthal, as his lips caressed the soft skin along the white lace stitching of her bra. And after minutes, and what seemed like an eternity to Kate, of torture, a pleasant and painful juxtaposition, his hands dipped behind her and removed the offending material.

Their deep-running and moving passion for each other, a harboured feeling that had been shrouded for far too long, had exploded in the last month. And each time they were on shore together, alone and intimately placed, no homely surface was immune to their heated reunions.


	11. Chapter 11

Back again! Busy weekend and now on to Chapter 11. Mike and Kate are finally getting read into this op... and so are you! Hopefully, this will clear up what's going on. Partly. And guest starring in this "episode" and appearing in this chapter... Gary Sweet as Don McAllister!

Enjoy and please review.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

Kate woke the next morning in a comfortable position against Mike's chest. Her phone was buzzing on her table, and he was stirring beneath her. Switching off the alarm, she slid down his muscular side and out of the bed. It took Mike far longer to wake, and she had finished showering and was drying her hair as he climbed out of bed. She heard a door close, and then, quite unexpectedly; open again just two minutes later.

"Mike?" she called out with a trace of concern. She really hoped that it was him.

Her intruder followed her voice into the bathroom, approached her and slunk his hands fervently around her waist. She leaned into his touch as he kissed her neck.

"There's a bathroom in your room, you know," she mentioned.

He shrugged and she found herself ushered out of her own bathroom. His freshly dry-cleaned suit was still in plastic on her bed, next to her own hand-picked clothing for the day. A simple grey business suit with a white blouse would suffice. She was a little disappointed by the fact that she couldn't wear her whites. It always commanded such a greater aura of respect whenever she stepped into a room. Especially when most of the people in that room were men.

A knock at her door came not long after she changed.

"It's your XO."

That answer came before the question did. You had to love an Executive Officer that could anticipate an order.

Kate walked towards the door and permitted him entry. She knew he was more observant than anybody she'd ever met, and he'd probably work out quickly that a man had spent the night and was in the shower as they spoke, but she didn't exactly care. If Raffy Rodrigues didn't already know about her relationship with Mike, then she had overrated his skills. Big time.

"Something the matter, Rafael?" Kate asked, using his full name, as she sorted through what she needed for the day. "Or are you just checking up on me?"

"No, ma'am, my visit is actually professional," he replied with a smug smile.

"Kate, please. While we're not working, I'd prefer it if you called me that," she told him.

Raffy opened his mouth, apparently to answer her first question, when he was interrupted by a rather loud and strange noise coming from the bathroom.

"Have I told you lately that I love you…"

The deep masculine voice could actually sing and rather well.

"Ignore that," Kate advised, a voice inside her head screaming embarrassment.

Raffy looked with a confused and amused expression in the direction of the closed bathroom door, but, never one to disobey a direct order without good reason, continued with what he had come to say. "We're taking a chopper to Jakarta. The car downstairs will leave for Ngurah Rai International Airport in thirty minutes, so if you plan on eating breakfast or having a coffee, I would suggest you do it soon."

"Are you coming with us to the Embassy?"

"I… uh… I'm flying with you to Jakarta, but I'll be meeting with a friend of mine in the central part of the city," Raffy told her.

Kate gave him a knowing smile. "Sharing intelligence with the Japanese?"

He looked at her with a stroke of admiration.

"It was a fairly educated hypothesis. When it comes to Southeast Asia, we rely a lot on our friends from the north."

"You catch on quick."

"You know, Raffy, I am not completely without direction on these matters. Sometimes I do know what you're talking about."

He heard the shower switch off and took it as his cue to leave. "And so you do, Kate. I'll see you downstairs in twenty-five minutes."

She was glad that Raffy had gone by the time that Mike walked out of the bathroom with towel wrapped securely around his waist. Kate had the temptation to determine just how securely. She needn't have bothered—Mike removed the towel himself and discarded it in a heap on the floor.

Testing her inner strength and will, she snuck up behind him and pressed a kiss to his bare back. Her left hand snaked around the front and trailed down the scar on his leg—a memoir left from a horrific explosion just two years earlier.

"Raffy says we have twenty minutes until the car leaves," she whispered to him.

"I thought I sensed another man in your room," he replied with playfully and turned around to face her.

"Mm, you have ten minutes to get dressed," she advised. "If I'm going head-to-head with a government representative this morning, I want a brew."

A smile remained on his handsome face. "Or we could skip the coffee…"

"No, Mike." Her tone was firm and inflexible. "I need the coffee."

And so she went back to her hair and make-up, tying the former in a tight bun and placing just enough make-up to cover the dark circles forming under her eyes. Mike was blow-drying his hair and, she suspected, using her straightener. If he'd left the gel wax in his room, then that was likely.

Twenty minutes later, they were downstairs and Raffy was already in the dark town car. His grey suit was similarly cut to Mike's black one and he wore a green shirt and tie with it. Mike, on the other hand, was wearing a light blue shirt and tie combo.

After a silent and speedy trip to the helipad at Bali's international airport, they were rushed through security and safety procedures with an English-speaking native of the Army and in the air minutes later. If Kate had wanted to hold a discussion with either of the men she travelled, it would be a difficult venture—the movement of the rotors was far too loud. And while the journey itself was not long, the agony of anticipation lengthened each moment as Kate, without any intelligence or specific knowledge, planned what she wanted to and needed to say to this 'official.'

When the Mil Mi-17 arrived at Sukarno-Hatta International Airport, the three naval officers were ushered off the helipad and into an empty hangar rather quickly. An Australian-flagged vehicle was waiting for them, as well as an unmarked small silver sedan. Kate assumed that her and Mike would be taking the former.

"Lunch?" Raffy offered as he moved towards his transport.

Kate was confused. "Lunch?" They had just eaten breakfast.

"As in, I will meet you for lunch and we'll share and discuss," he clarified with that twinkling smile.

Kate nodded a 'yes.' It was actually the first time since she arrived in Indonesia that anyone had offered her anything of substance. Mike, beside her, was thanking the Army pilot and his crew in broken Indonesian. Admittedly, she spoke the language better than he, but neither was nearly as fluent as Raffy. All three had received language training in Bahasa Indonesia as Royal Australian Navy officers, but to varying degrees based on deployments.

An Australian official was driving them to the embassy. Kate intentionally kept this trip silent, not because of noise or lack of pertinent discussion, but because she did not want anything to be recorded or repeated to a superior, either in Jakarta or at home. Her thoughts on this matter were going to remain hers—not the property of the Australian government.

She was surprised to find her transport waved through at the security checkpoint. It was, after all, S.O.P. to manually inspect and clear all incoming vehicles, regardless of who was inside. Obviously someone important inside the embassy was pulling strings to get things moving, possibly even the Ambassador herself.

"This way, ma'am, sir," their driver indicated as they stepped from the car and walked through the extravagant outdoor façade. The atrium was intricately decorated and perfectly ordered. There were no errand-runners, distressed tourists or important officials to be seen—it was empty.

They were led down a hallway and cascading staircase, followed by another, albeit narrower, corridor. The door at the end was securely locked and their guide, driver and, it appeared, security contact opened it via a retina scanner. Mike was left wondering when the embassy had gone so high-tech and he could bet that his colleague was wondering the same thing. He was pretty sure that this hallway wasn't here six years ago when he had visited. Or perhaps he was just not granted access.

"Please," the driver beckoned, allowing them passage into the secure area. "Don McAllister is expecting you."

Kate did not ask about this Don McAllister. Obviously they were about to meet him. The driver did not follow them and, as they walked through the plain entrance, she soon discovered why this room had been kept so secret from upstairs. Truth be told, it was similar to NAVCOM's main information collection and analysis area, except it was darker, the computers were obviously more expensive and the walls were wrapped in, she guessed, touch-screen monitors. At the front was a large projection screen and a man stood alone in the centre, a headpiece attached. He appeared to be finishing up a video conference call on the main screen with another Australian. Kate could only guess where.

"Commander Flynn, Lieutenant Commander McGregor," he welcomed as the screen cut out. "Please join me."

They walked down the cinema steps and met him in front of the blur of colours. Don McAllister was a thin man with a startling and imposing disposition, grey balding hair and a stance that made Kate think he was as much an embassy official as Ethan Saunders was a delegate.

"We haven't got a lot of time," he continued, "and I need to read you in. Now, officially your duties here will be to coordinate the search for Lieutenant Commander Watson with the appropriate Australian and Indonesian authorities."

"And unofficially?" Kate asked.

"We may require your skills in one of the most vital operations this station has ever committed to."

They were getting somewhere, Kate recognized, but he was still being awfully vague.

"There is a faction of JI working its way through the Java Sea. Its leader's a man Filipino-born Syrian by the name of Abdul Malik Hussein. I know you've heard the name."

They just nodded and McAllister continued his story.

"We know for sure that there is a training camp on an Indonesian island, but we have not been able to track it yet. This faction moves by sea and the Navy is stretched thin enough as it is."

"What does this have to do with Marc Watson?" Kate asked pertinently.

"When your Executive Officer sent my IO a photo of that body you pulled out of the water three days ago, I knew this faction was making its move. Chatter between Iran, Pakistan and here has tripled in the last month. We tracked a senior JI operator from his hometown of Bandung to Denpasar and straight on to Tehran and later Esfahan before trekking back to Denpasar. An associate was spotted in Rawalpindi."

"Definitive links?" Mike questioned. This all seemed like a lot of guesswork to him, and it was the kind of information that led nowhere. "Do you actually know what they are planning?"

"Two weeks ago, a warehouse here in Jakarta was raided by the Indonesian anti-terror squad, Detachment 88. A large amount of ethylene oxide was unaccounted for. Industrially, it's used to produce polyester or polyurethane plastic, but it is a major component of a thermobaric weapon."

Kate flashed back to the discovery her crew had made just days ago in Australian territorial waters. That bomb may not have existed, but the threat certainly did. She had a very bad feeling about this.

"I know what they're planning, Commander," McAllister concluded. "But I don't know when or who."

"No idea who they're targeting?" Kate asked, masking the concern and fear in her voice. This was not the job she signed up for. Not exactly.

"No," he answered simply. "Intel hasn't gotten that far and we are running out of time. And now this officer is missing, and I'm not sure how he fits into this."

"So months of research, information collection and covert operations, and this station has nothing?" Mike said with a certain air of authority and abhorrence.

"Be careful with your tone, Commander," McAllister warned. "We are working. Hard."

Mike did not say another word. In the months following the 2002 Bali Bombings, ASIS and the Australian intelligence community was found to be insufficient, inexperienced and ill-advised. They had worked to correct that, and he could only hope that it was enough to prevent the same atrocity from happening again.


	12. Chapter 12

Sorry for the delay. I worked out this week that I need to spend more time studying (especially Arabic) else my GPA will take a nose-dive. Also, recent event in this chapter- for those of you who read/watch the news. I couldn't help it.

Enjoy and please review.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

Kate couldn't work out why Raffy had picked such a public place to meet for lunch. The café was on one of Jakarta's busiest streets in its metropolitan, and most cosmopolitan, centre. Their driver dropped them off, no questions asked, and they only need to call for the transfer back to the airport, where, she guessed, the same helicopter was preparing itself for the journey back to Denpasar.

It sounded like Sydney—the tooting of horns gridlocked in immovable traffic, the jeers of people across the street, the incessant chatter of passers-by—but it couldn't have felt more different. There were a number of native English speakers, but they were by far outnumbered by the Javanese locals. At every turn, there was a foreign conversation, a foreign culture and a foreign lifestyle.

Mike was not being much company. Still brooding in a dark corner after their discussion with Don McAllister in the embassy, he sheltered his thoughts in a quiet, ominous manner and refused to broadcast anything that was going through his head. Kate was feeling alone again.

"Good meeting?" Raffy's voice startled her. He sat next to her other male partner who didn't perk up at the slightest when asked the question.

"Learnt a lot," Kate replied simply. "What about you?"

"Got a name I wanna check out tomorrow," Raffy answered. "I figured I might grab Dutchy and take him with me if that's alright with you. A bit of muscle."

Kate wanted to say 'no,' but she realised that her tall, strong and energetic buffer was probably driving himself crazy on the ship or acting as a tourist in Bali. Since departing the previous day, she'd spoken to her senior sailors thrice and they had all questioned what she was doing on land, with the appropriate provisions for authority, of course.

"Out of sight," she responded.

"We'll be in and out faster than…"

She glared at him.

"Never mind," Raffy said sheepishly. "We'll be fast. And invisible."

"What do you know about him?" Mike asked, hand on chin in a peculiar and reserved manner.

The new XO was confused. "Dutchy?"

"He means this name," Kate clarified.

Raffy was about to answer when Kate lifted a palm in front, indicating for him to stop.

"Is it safe to talk here? In public?"

"Safer than the embassy," Raffy replied.

"Won't we be overheard?"

He shook his head. "I can barely hear you two in this place, so I'll safely assume that neither can some eavesdropper or passer-by. Now, to answer your question, I know of the name. He works for POLRI."

"That's supposed to mean something to me," Mike retorted.

His reserved attitude was starting to annoy Kate. "Indonesian National Police," she clarified. Her tone mirrored her feelings.

"And that's not his only employer…" Raffy muttered suggestively. "I wonder if the tax department knows."

"Right," Kate commented, a little lost.

Raffy's misunderstood commentary went astray and he left it that way. "What did you two learn?"

"That the Jakarta station has not developed any way since October 12, 2002," Mike replied with antipathy.

"They're doing the best that they can do," Raffy said defensively.

Mike had had enough with that excuse. "Well, if the best they can is do three terrorists attacks in eight years, then frankly I'm concerned."

"Three?" Kate asked. "Last night you were all optimistic. What happened?"

"Yeah, I was optimistic that our meeting this morning would put my mind at ease but it did the exact opposite. Let's call spade a spade, here," Mike said bluntly. "We have no idea when this strike is going to happen except we know it's soon and we have no idea what the target is. Oh, and we've misplaced the camp. Have I summed it up well?"

"Yes, sir," Raffy replied. "You got it. We're screwed."

"Do you think we have time, Raffy?" Kate asked. Someone had to be at least a little faithful that they could still prevent the next attack.

"I think we're running out of time," he answered. "We've lost contact with those we were tracking—they've gone underground. An attack is definitely imminent; all the warning signs are there. And Ethan's informants have stopped talking. We need to get someone high up enough to at least cause them to rethink their timing."

"What? Like the recent arrest of JI's spiritual counselor, Abu Bakar Bashir?" Mike jabbed.

"Pfft, Delta 88 took out his group in Aceh," Raffy replied.

"And most of the other big guns are dead," Kate put in with a grim expression, and then, as an afterthought, added, "Thanks to Detachment 88. If they're using a highly explosive weapon to commit this deed, they're going to have to do it without their 'Demolition Man'."

Mike was shaking his head. "Who said they need an explosive weapon? Al-Qa'ida used a plane. Or two."

"But the missing chemicals are definitely suggestive of that thermobaric bomb we found in our waters," Kate said firmly.

"And we don't know how much of that is actually missing." Mike was right—they were screwed.

* * *

Ethan Saunders was waiting for them when they arrived back at the hotel. Raffy had excused himself and returned to his room alone, while Kate and Mike loitered in the grand lobby of expensive china, antique furniture and crystal chandeliers, expecting their driver to return with the car.

"I want to check on my crew," Kate told Ethan, firmly. "In person."

His constant assurances of her crew's wellbeing were not enough to sway her and, in the end, it was easier for him to give in and call the driver back. Mike insisted on accompanying her to the ship in a chauvinist fashion, but his lover didn't voice any objections. If it got her to the Hammersley, she'd let him bang on his chest and direct her in loud grunts like a caveman.

An anxious Swain welcomed his former CO and current one back with open arms, figuratively speaking, of course. His arms were crossed and his stance disenchanting. "Any news, ma'am?"

She should've known to expect that question from Swain straight off the mark. His concern for a colleague he'd never met was genuine, and she suspected that his worry was being broadcast across the ship. "Unfortunately not. Nothing regarding Lieutenant Commander Watson."

"Nothing?"

"It's a complicated situation, Swain," Mike told him.

The Petty Officer couldn't argue anymore. That had been Mike-speak for butt out and move on. There were dark places that the other Hammersley sailors just weren't supposed to be.

"The ship, Swain?" Kate asked pertinently before walking up the gangway.

"All fine, ma'am." He jogged to keep up with her as she made her way towards the bridge. "We've mainly been playing board games or enjoying our time ashore. Logs are up-to-date; all equipment has been checked and is in good working order; the –"

Kate cut him off. "Everything that needs doing has been done. I get it. You've done well."

"We want to feel useful," Swain said in a mellow tone.

"So do I," she muttered.

"Ma'am?"

Mike stepped in. "Security? No hassles?"

"No, sir," Dutchy said from the stairs. None of them had noticed him join the conversation until now. "The Indonesians have locked this port down and it's already got heightened security because of the airport."

"And the embassy staff have been taking good care of us when we go ashore," Swain put in.

"And we stay in groups when we leave the ship," Dutchy added. "Nobody goes anywhere alone."

Clearly, they had scripted this little role-play for her benefit.

"Very well. I guess – " She was interrupted mid-sentence by Mike's phone. Looking to his furrowed face for an explanation, she wasn't too impressed when it came.

"Text from Willis. He said that Ethan Saunders has requested our attention back at the hotel."

Willis, their driver, was waiting for them in the port's empty car park.

"Let's go, then," Kate announced. Something was off about it—if it was urgent, then why didn't Ethan call himself—but the bigger part of her was curious.

After some hurried words of encouragement and some rushed greetings and partings, Kate and Mike strolled speedily back to their waiting town car and climbed in. Willis had already gassed the engine and they were set to go. He drove at a more erratic pace on the narrow streets back to the hotel.

Kate was staring out her window. She watched as a mother pulled her two small children by the hand, keeping them off the road, an elderly man crept past a street vendor, a group of nine or ten year-olds played soccer in a side alley. But then, very suddenly yet almost in slow motion, as they passed through an intersection, she saw it coming. Coming towards her so fast that she couldn't cry out but so slow that she saw every single detail. The car did not stop.

The impact sent her hurtling towards Mike only to be pulled back by the seatbelt she wisely chose to wear. Her neck snapped back and her head hit the rest behind. Hard. She heard the screeching of tyres and the crack as metal collided and then… nothing. Her mind was so hazy that she could only think of the exploding pain inside her head. It was unbearable.

It took Mike by surprise. Unlike Kate, he had not been looking in that direction, and he had not seen it coming. It confused him at first, threw his sense of time and balance out of whack completely, but then he remembered what happened. And he remembered where Kate was. The accident had been on her side. He reached for her, but couldn't feel anything. His door was open—he didn't know why—and then, as sudden as the collision, a pair of hands grabbed him and pulled him on to the tarmac. He had almost scrambled to his feet when a boot met his cheekbone. Dazed and looking at the sky, he did not fight when those hands reached for him again.

Kate could not feel Mike beside her. She was afraid to look, so she chanced a glance in front of her. Through her blurry vision she could make out red. Blood red. The intact windscreen was covered in blood. Her door opened, a movement she did not do herself, and there were hands around her before she could question why.

"Do not move, or I will break your pretty, little neck."


	13. Chapter 13

A quick update for y'all and a bit of a filler. With an important plot point, though. Enjoy and please review.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

The bar was quickly filling with foreign tourists as the night began to set in—the clubs would open soon. Australians that would regularly flock to Kings Cross or Surfers Paradise for a party were holidaying in a neighbouring and friendly nation and enjoying the local spirit sensitised by Western expansion. As Dutchy glanced around the room at the celebratory antics of under-30s, a deep-rooted fear and shackling sense of dread came over him. A terrorist attack here, again, would be disastrous.

"Okay, mate?" Swain's voiced sliced through his thoughts. "You seem… I don't know… spaced."

"Do I?" He had a handsome smile on his face, and it may have worked to deter his new CO from his back, but not his fellow senior sailor.

Swain just placed the beer in front of him. It was response enough.

"I hate just sitting here, Swain," Dutchy admitted, staring at the foaming brown fluid.

"So get up and dance," he advised with a smile. Inside, he knew that wasn't what was meant by the admission.

"Hey, guys," Bird said with a stumble as she approached their table. Newly eighteen, it was very clear that the young sailor did not hold her alcohol very well.

"I think that's enough for you, jelly legs," Dutchy recommended with an amused grin.

"We should be heading back in about an hour anyway," Swain told her. "Let the others know. We're not staying out late."

They watched her return to Sharkey and 2Dads on the dance floor. The three of them were grouping with a cluster of mostly Western tourists who had already conceded to the demands of cheap alcohol.

"What do you think the officers are up to?" Dutchy put in. His eyes were still on the junior sailors and wouldn't desist. It was his job to watch them.

"Intelligence briefings," Swain answered nonchalantly.

"A bomb and a missing naval officer," Dutchy mused. "How do they connect? Are we waiting for an attack?"

"I don't know."

"You haven't tried to find out? You haven't contacted your police buddies?"

Dutchy was really pushing him. "I've tried," Swain protested. "I asked them about Lieutenant Commander Watson. I asked them about what Feds pulled off those boats and out of those men. They had nothing."

"What do you mean 'nothing'?"

Swain finished his beer. "I mean 'nothing.' It's seems to be a buzzword around here. Everything's classified."

"The Feds had to have something to tell you," Dutchy fought.

"Listen to me, mate," Swain said, "they had nothing to tell me. Everything's classified at the highest level. They don't know anything. We don't know anything. And the people that do can't tell us anything."

It wasn't too much for him to wrap his head around, but it was close. The situation was worse than he first assumed. "Are you saying that some secret government agency hijacked this case from the Feds?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." And there was nought but truth and honesty in Swain's expression. "I think that something really bad is on the schedule."

Dutchy didn't even want t touch his beer. "Yeah. And we're smack-bang in the middle of it."

* * *

They weren't answering their phones. It wasn't like them, especially not now with all that had happened. An unspoken rule of working together on such a crucial assignment was that each and every member could always be contacted. In this case, two members of the team and a driver were in the wind. They had gone to the Hammersley, Raffy's mind screamed. They were going to pick up dinner on the way back. Where the bloody hell were they?

Ethan's set-up was on the second floor of the Intercontinental Hotel. The expensive suite had been turned top-secret and technologically advanced for the purposes of his operation. He didn't need to knock on the door. He had a key.

The ASIS Intelligence Officer was labouring over his computer set-up with a box of Thai, a mouse in one hand and chopsticks in the other. He probably noticed Raffy entering the room—IO's of his calibre weren't likely to miss something like that—but he didn't register the intrusion.

"I can't find Commander Flynn or Lieutenant Commander McGregor," Raffy announced. He didn't take a seat. He stood aimlessly in the centre of the cream-carpeted room.

"Okay," Ethan replied without so much as a caring word in his direction.

"Okay? They're missing. That's not okay."

"Calm down, Raff," Ethan advised. "They went to the Hammersley."

"That was four hours ago." No part of Raffy was calm and Ethan's infantilising advice was just annoying him. "They were supposed to pick up dinner and come straight back to the hotel."

"So maybe they went out for dinner? We are in Bali."

To Raffy, it did not look like Ethan was remotely interested in his concerns. He was absorbed in his work and the young Lieutenant could not even begin to wonder what that was.

"They wouldn't have gone out," Raffy argued. "Not after what we learnt today. We have work to do. We had plans for a working dinner."

"Well, at least I'm still working," Ethan said brightly.

"I can't believe you're making jokes. Something has happened to Mike and Kate!"

"There's nothing to suggest that," Ethan put in.

Raffy opened his mouth to respond. He didn't get the chance. His phone was ringing.

"Lieutenant Rodrigues… Where?..."

A long pause told Ethan that Raffy was busily receiving information.

"Well, what about the others?"

Ethan could hear an exasperated explanation on the other line but no more.

"Yes, there were others!" Raffy shouted into the receiver. "There were two Australian naval officers in that car. A man and a woman… Well, did you check the hospitals?... What do you mean?"

Ethan shifted uneasily in his chair as another pause ensued.

"Find out what happened to them… Yes, I'll take care of it. I'll call you back." And he hung up the phone and stared at Ethan with a surprised and concerned expression.

"What?"

"That was Danny Sulista from the Balinese police," Raffy said unsurely. "There was a car accident. Charlie Willis is dead. His throat was slit. Mike and Kate were not in the car when they found it, but there was blood in the back seat. You still think they're fine?"

"Willis had his throat slit?" Ethan asked. The colour in his face was as missing as their friends.

"And somebody took Mike and Kate," Raffy clarified wildly. "We have to find them." He started towards the door and then turned around to stare at Ethan. "Are you coming?"

"Don't bother."

"WHAT?"

"Get back over here," Ethan repeated. He recovered quickly from the shock and had the same firm, authoritative and composed voice.

"What is so important on your damn computer?" Raffy argued. "We need to get out there and look for them."

"No, we don't." His tone remained unchanged and he hadn't moved from his seat.

The younger man didn't voice his question. It was written all over his face.

"I already know where they are," Ethan told him, and pointed to his screen.

Raffy walked over at a rush and glanced over his shoulder. A map of the city wrapped the LCD monitor and two small dots were blinking at the same location in downtown Denpasar Selatan. Then and there, a part of Raffy deeply suspected that this hard been Ethan Sanders' master plan all along.


	14. Chapter 14

I just finished this chapter and I didn't want to wait to post it. It has a higher rating than previous chapter, so not for the kiddies. For those of you dying to find out what happened to Mike and Kate, here you go.

Enjoy and please review.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

"You set them up!"

Rafael Rodrigues was furious. Anger was seeping at his soul like a persistent virus and destabilizing his psyche until he was little more than a babbling fanatic. Ethan Saunders, on the other hand, kept his cool composition and turned back to his computers. At that point, the young officer couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed his colleague by the scruff of the shirt and hoisted him out of the chair. Ethan hadn't quite expected that.

"We are getting them out. Now!"

"No," Ethan replied, unfazed by Raffy's violent reaction. "We're not. Not until we get the intel that we need."

"You want them to break and start hemorrhaging information to whoever it is that has them."

Ethan shook off the hold and settled back into his seat. "Yes. It's the only way."

"To what?"

"To find out exactly what these guys are planning. They have Marc Watson and they got nothing from him."

"Is he dead?" A part of Raffy was curious now. What exactly did Ethan hope to achieve?

"I don't know. I only know that he wasn't talking when they put the squeeze on him."

"What information could he possibly give? He's a patrol boat captain."

Ethan smiled. "Precisely my line of thought. Which is why…"

"Is it worth it? Do you know what this could do to them psychologically?" The fresh fury was in his throat again.

"No and I don't care."

Raffy scoffed. "Of course you don't."

"Hey, don't criminalize me," Ethan debated. He stood again, and the computer signal lay forgotten in the heat of the argument. "Do you know what my job is? My job is to prevent this next terrorist attack any which way I can. To save lives. Australian lives. No matter the cost to a few good men and women."

"The big picture," Raffy said with disdain. Ethan spoke the truth and it was likely that this group's motives would be revealed when they started asking Mike and Kate questions. He hoped they wouldn't fight their interrogators, but he knew they would. They would never give up state secrets for anything. "What about the Charlie Willis? You know, the driver that never saw his death coming."

"That wasn't supposed to happen."

"You were dealing with terrorists, Ethan. What did you think would happen?"

The IO drew in a sharp breath. "We will go in. I have a team standing-by. Once I'm satisfied that enough time has passed for them to break and for their interrogators to open up, we'll go in and take out everyone."

"How do you know when that will be?"

"I don't. It's mainly good guesswork."

Raffy shook his head. "No. You're leaving too much of this to guesswork. We have to go in now!"

"NO!" It was the first time that Ethan had raised his voice. "No. We wait. This is my operation. I will run it how I see fit."

"How is this your operation?" Raffy demanded. It was a safe bet that anyone on the second floor could hear their loud debate. "The _Intelligence Services Act_ strictly forbids us to undertake paramilitary operations in any context."

"Well, in that case, it's the CIA's operation. I'm just working with them."

Raffy glared at him.

"No, really," Ethan defended. "They'll take all the credit for bringing down a terrorist cell with Detachment 88 and they'll cop all the flack if it goes bad. And I get vital information."

"You've got it all worked out."

"Yes, I do."

"You forgot the part where you sold off our naval officers to unwillingly play a part in _your_ paramilitary operation," Raffy added.

But Ethan didn't look the least bit concerned. "Mate, if I stop this attack, nobody's going to charge me with anything."

* * *

Drums were pounding inside his head. He knew what was coming. As if the car accident and capture weren't enough to jog his memory of the beating he took little more than a month beforehand. His wrists were chaffing as he tried to release the binds, but the rope was too coarse and thick. It was no use.

Kate hadn't tried to fight yet. She was biding her time—he knew that. Her body had yet to shake with fear. It had yet to show any emotion whatsoever, but very soon, Mike knew, it would. They were coming back and they would do whatever it took to get the answers they wanted from them.

He knew they were in trouble the moment they had been dragged into the empty and chronically underused warehouse. These people obviously wanted something, else they would've killed him and Kate on site. The floor was dusty and the lights were flicking at best. It provided the perfect environment for illicit methods of interrogation. They had been secured to awkward wooden chairs with rough-threaded rope. Initially, Mike was not conscious and presented no challenge to them. Kate, he suspected, had been too freaked out to fight back, especially with him in that condition. And, half an hour later, when Marc Watson was dragged out from some unseen room, bloody, beaten and altogether unwell, they knew that there was little hope for an escape route.

As Mike got better, Marc got worse. He was barely conscious now and hadn't spoken to them for some time. Mike hadn't risked conversation with his girlfriend in case they were listening, but his expression said enough. He was telling her to hold on. He was convincing her that it would be okay.

The fear mongering tactics were starting to work. After an hour and a half, or longer—they couldn't see their watches or a clock—the two men that had captured them and killed their driver reappeared with a third man. Mike and Kate recognized him immediately. They had seen him on the main screen at the Embassy's 'secret room' earlier that day. Asif Muhammad Gudhunyo was suspected to be high in the organization of Abdul Malik Hussein. ASIS had tracked him to Denpasar, Tehran, Esfahan and back again. They didn't know what he was doing in Iran.

Gudhunyo ignored Marc and Kate and walked straight to Mike in the centre. Kate suddenly felt an air of dread wash over her. This was really happening and there was no escape. She didn't want to watch what took place next. Gudhunyo nodded to the goon on his left. Mike watched him approach with a fiery determination. His hand rose and his fist connected powerfully with Mike's left cheek. Once. Twice. Gudhunyo called him off after the fifth strike.

His mind was barely hanging on to a glimmer of light. His vision was all over the place. Blood was dripping down the bridge of his nose from a gash above his eyebrow. The metallic taste of body fluids was running down the back of his throat. Admittedly, this probably wasn't the best method of interrogation. Mike could hardly keep track of his thoughts let alone answer any questions, and the muscles of his throat had clamped up so much that he was unlikely to verbally communicate.

"Let me make something clear," Gudhunyo said through the gathering silence. "I know who you are, Commander Flynn. I know who your colleagues are. And this was not a random kidnapping, so it is in your best interest to answer my questions."

Mike didn't answer. His expression was emotionless and unyielding.

"You don't want to end up like your colleague," Gudhunyo advised, his head nodding in the direction of a now motionless Marc Watson. His idiomatic English was perfect and they suspected that he'd studied in a Western nation for a period of time, but unfortunately hadn't delved that deep into his file. Information was power.

"I don't know what you expect us to tell you," Kate said when Mike failed to answer. She didn't want to see him hit again.

Gudhunyo smiled and turned around. His dramatically evil face was maniacally expressing harm towards her. She could feel it. "Lieutenant Commander McGregor. I haven't asked you any questions yet, so how do you know what to expect from me?"

Kate went silent. She didn't know what he wanted, but she knew that they couldn't tell him. Their country's national security depended on it.

"So, Commander," Gudhunyo began, "at what secure frequency does the Northern Australian branch of Coastwatch communicate?"

This was strangely reminiscent. But he only knew what they were using two days ago, not if what it had changed to, which it probably had given the upgraded security.

"I don't know," he said. It was partly the truth.

"You were on the HMAS Hammersley just a few hours ago," Gudhunyo debated. "You had access to the most recent intelligence reports."

"I don't know what the frequency is," Mike argued through his blood-stained lips.

Gudhunyo looked at Kate expectantly and then moved behind her. He collected her straight blond hair in fist and yanked her head backwards. She resisted the urge to cry and grit her teeth instead.

"How about you, my dear?"

Kate didn't respond.

"Hm? You are the captain after all."

Her jaw was clenched so tight that not even air was escaping her lips. She was resisting.

"Alright, next question," Gudhunyo said finally and looked at the larger member of his team. He stepped forward and struck Mike again. After two more strikes to the head and three to the torso, Kate was hanging on to the slimmest thread of sanity. "What do your friends know about my business in Iran?"

Mike shook his head violently.

"Come now, Commander. I know about your briefing this morning at the Australian embassy in Jakarta. I know the CIA and ASIS followed me to Tehran. So what exactly did they learn?"

Mike attempted a shrug.

"Your holiday plans?" Kate mused in a strong voice. It appeared that she'd found her composure.

Biting his inner lip, Gudhunyo turned from Mike's chair and walked towards her. She saw the slap coming before the back of his hand made contact. She was waiting for it with aggressive anticipation that almost spelt 'bring it on.' Her right cheek stung and was bleeding—she suspected gold ring he wore on his left middle finger—but her resolve had not lessened.

"Cheek will not save you from speaking the truth, missy," he warned dangerously.

"We're naval officers." Marc said from the corner. It appeared that was still dangling on the edge of awareness. "What do you want to know so badly that we could tell you? Why us?"

Kate was happy to hear his voice. At least she knew that he was still alive and that happy notion gave her hope. It gave them the chance to fight even if their situation was hopeless. Mike, on the other hand, was musing over Marc's question more carefully. He asked a good one. Why were they chosen out of all the Australian security personnel 'in country' at the moment?

"One more question then," Gudhunyo said with a cunning grin.

"No," Mike replied.

"No? You don't even know what I'm going to ask."

"No," the strong-willed officer repeated.

Gudhunyo nodded slowly and turned to the shorter of his team. "Gulain. Untie the woman."

Kate looked positively frightened now. She didn't voice it, but her eyes showed the deep-seated fear she felt inside. Her brave face was slowly crumbling.

"What?" Mike shouted.

Gulain slid Kate's binds off and held her neck tightly in a brace. His biceps were crushing her throat and she couldn't breathe. He dragged her over to his boss and, once more, Gudhunyo collected a fist her blonde hair and brought her closer to him. One arm replaced Gulain's around her neck while the other produced a small blade at her kidney. She could not move or cry out.

Mike was struggling against his binds, not at all concerned by the cuts and bruises on his wrists and ankles. The chair was shaking as he battled against his captors viciously.

"Answer my question, Flynn," Gudhunyo advised, "or your pretty lady is not going to be so pretty anymore."

"Let her go," Mike said viciously. His wrists were blood red and chaffing and his chair had left drag marks on the concrete floor. But most dangerous of all were his eyes. Gudhunyo had to admit that he'd never seen a man react so violently in his life. At last, he was getting somewhere. He had found their weakness and he was going to exploit it.

"Maybe you'll rethink your answer, when I strip your lady and invade her modesty," he said with a wicked smile. "Maybe I'll let you watch."

If Mike weren't bound so tightly that attacking the man before him was impossible, he'd have killed him with his bare hands for the suggestion. The old wooden chair that he was bound to was now shaking so ferociously that it threatened to splinter and shatter.

Gudhunyo was tugging at her white blouse. "The easier way for this to stop, Flynn, is to answer my questions."

His jaw was clenched and his expression showed wild, uncontained rage. But, after a few moments, depressed defeat. He was too tired and weak to continue to fight the immovable wall. The anger was still there, as was the insatiable urge for retribution, but fear of what would happen to Kate was the most prominent emotion and his overwhelmed appearance displayed it.

"Okay," Mike said quickly. "Okay. I'll…uh… I'll answer-"

"Mike!" Kate shouted through her captor's tough hold.

He glanced at her again. She was shaking her head, and through the fresh tears that rimmed her eyelids, he could see that passionate, unwavering resolve. It wasn't just a brave face. It was her. Kate was not about to let him spill state secrets for anything. Not her pride. Not her womanhood. Not her life.

"The security frequency, Commander?" Gudhunyo asked again.

Mike's eyes were locked on Kate's. Her mind hadn't changed. She was still intent on remaining silent. But honestly, he was not sure if he could handle it anymore. Gudhunyo wasn't prepared to wait. He pushed Kate forward and brought a strong elbow to the middle of her back, knocking her to the floor and disabling her spirit in a single blow. He stepped over her and rolled her on to her back. Fear engulfed her courage and Mike's chair was rattling furiously again.

"_Tuan_," one of Gudhunyo's cronies shouted, interrupting him.

The malicious terrorist leader looked away from his victim in time to see his taller ally crumple against the dirty, grey wall. Not five seconds erupted before Gudhunyo's motionless corpse was on the ground next to Kate. Mike looked up to see Raffy Rodrigues behind the 9mm Beretta with a silencer. The third member of Gudhunyo's crew tried to escape through a broken window on the eastern wall. A bullet from Ethan Saunders' gun prevented it.

Raffy rushed forward and cut Mike's binds quickly before tending to a semi-conscious Marc Watson, allowing his CO to be cared for by her lover. Mike jumped from her chair and lifted her thin frame from the floor, using all the strength he had left in his body to pull her into his arms. She crumpled against his weight, still hanging on to the tears of fear and refusing to let them fall free. She grasped his shirt, taking some comfort in the touch that she didn't think she'd feel again. When his lips made contact with her forehead, she closed her eyes and rested, heeding the safety of his strong arms.


	15. Chapter 15

Returning with another chapter now... and still sick . Thanks for the fabulous feedback throughout this story. I really do like to read what you have to say.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

In a climate where the temperature hung at around 32 degrees Celsius, not much different to Cairns, prevailing winds from the coast were desirable. It was early, but not too early, and the slow rift of leaves and sand as the sun rose over the Indian Ocean painted a very pretty picture. The balcony's railing was not the most comfortable seat in his hotel room, but it was the one with the most to offer: a cool breeze, fresh air and the sinking feeling one got when dangling so close to the edge.

There was movement in Mike's room and Kate knew her lover was still sleeping, albeit unsoundly. Her Executive Officer made his way carefully and quietly through the darkened room to her 'twenty' on the balcony.

"Mike's not sleeping well," Kate said, as though it were the reason for her migration to the outdoors.

"And you're just not sleeping," Raffy returned. There was little that escaped him, and it was the reason he chanced a discussion with her so early in the morning.

"What are you doing awake so early?"

Raffy shrugged. "Same reason, I guess."

She shook her head and looked beyond the rising sun. "Not the same one."

"No," Raffy agreed. "Not exactly."

Kate let their conversation wade into an uncomfortable silence. The discussion that had to be had was one she did not want to have. Not yet. Not ever. She suspected there would be a debriefing as soon as they left the hospital but, when there wasn't, she knew it would come in the morning. Some things were just too critical to be left for too long.

Raffy had other ideas. He inevitably crushed the lull. "I'm sorry for what happened last night."

"It's not your fault, Rafael," Kate told him surely. "I'm just glad you found us when you did."

"I didn't find you," Raffy said slowly, and the beginnings of shame were eliciting an awkward response from his facial expressions. "I already knew where you were."

Anger was not the first emotion. Confusion preceded it. And the look on Kate's face beckoned him to continue. And so he did.

"Ethan knew where you were all along. He passed on your location and the route you would travel back to the hotel to his informants in this faction, and they gave the information to Gudhunyo."

"What are you saying? He set us up to be captured by terrorists?" Her voice was markedly higher and all thoughts about preserving Mike's disturbed sleeping pattern were lost.

"He allowed you to be captured."

"Why?"

Raffy bit his tongue and tried to shake his head, but the impatient expression worn by his CO was too much. "For information. You were asked questions, yes? Otherwise he wouldn't have taken you."

"And Ethan wants to know what he asked so he gets a glimpse of our enemies' plans," Kate realised disdainfully. "You were involv-"

Raffy cut her off. "No. No, I didn't know about this until I went looking for you last night. After you didn't return from the Hammersley, I grew concerned. And then I found Ethan. And when I learnt what he had done, I made him get you out."

"He knew where we were all along?"

Raffy nodded. "He placed GPS tracker dots in your watches. Removed the back, I guess, and slipped one in. They're not that big, you know, and I guess he knew that you would be wearing your watch."

"Smart plan." But Raffy could tell that she was woefully disappointed with it. "He left out the risk assessment part, though. What if we'd been killed? What about what already happened to us because we resisted interrogation?"

"It's not his job to care about that. He only wants good intel and he'll get it any way he can."

"The big picture," Kate said. Anger was gnawing at her soul. An unrequited fury was leeching away logical thought.

"Lieutenant Commander Watson was flown to Darwin during the night," Raffy told her. "He's gonna make it. At least that's one good thing to think about."

"I suppose so. But then…" She leapt off the railing and onto the ceramic tiles before stepping into the open doorway. Mike was still sleeping, but his face contorted in a mix of fear and unbelievable pain. It wasn't a peaceful sleep and he was probably dreaming the worst imaginable. Slowly, his hand reached across the white sheet to where Kate slept and grasped the material tightly.

"I still have work to do," Raffy said in a quiet voice. "I'll see you this afternoon."

As soon as he left, closing the door silently behind him, she climbed back into Mike's bed and reached across the sheets for his clenched fist. It loosened at her touch and his face calmed when she grasped it in her own. Fresh tears were starting to sting her eyes as she considered what he was dreaming. Was there any coming back from this? Or was it always going to be a fence between them?

* * *

Dutchy's business was to stand in the back of the room and watch his XO's 'six'. He presumed that it would be his orders from the CO anyway, and he was enthusiastic about accompanying Raffy to Jakarta and to a non-descript office in the headquarters of the Indonesian National Police. After changing into jeans and a t-shirt, he was whisked off in an embassy vehicle to the airport and on to a chartered jet. His only instructions were to remain quiet. As it stood, he hadn't even asked what they were doing there.

The office was empty until an imposing middle-aged Indonesian man in a dull grey uniform entered. Raffy was wearing a black suit and tie, markedly different to his buffer's casual attire. He did not jump, flinch or even look up when the officer entered the room. As they sat opposite each other, an expensive ornamental desk in between, Dutchy's dread-o-meter was going into overdrive. He couldn't even work out what they were doing there.

"Lieutenant Rodrigues," he began, "do you want to tell me what you are doing in my office?"

Raffy just smiled. "Nice to see you again, Commissioner Budingan." He nodded to Dutchy who handed him a locked wooden box. "A gift. For our continuing cooperation."

Budingan was grinning when he opened it. "Mm. Cuban."

Raffy declined the offer to share. "Have you got anything on Asif Muhammad Gudhunyo?"

"Hm? You killed him last night, yes?"

Dutchy's ears perked up.

"Yes."

Budingan appeared pleased by his response. "I hear that you were supposed to capture him alive. Are you in trouble, Mr Rodrigues?"

"Unfortunately, he didn't leave me with much of a choice," Raffy explained nonchalantly. "He was in Iran two weeks ago. Do you know what he was doing there?"

His expression said no. "We have no information on him there."

Raffy was wearing sly grin, one that Dutchy had seen too often. Information was power, the XO had told him, and that just a little could lead to a lot. He was going in for the kill with whatever intelligence he had on this Indonesian police officer.

"Perhaps I should ask Mehdi Kharoubi from the Revolutionary Guard," Raffy suggested slowly.

Dutchy felt the room's aura change. Budingan's face grew serious very quickly, and there was something else he sensed… fear.

"Who?" Budingan asked. The truth was pathetically hidden.

"Don't try it," Raffy warned. "Of course, it's not just the Revolutionary Guard who have you on their payroll. What do you think will happen when your superiors find out you've been selling secrets to the ISI?"

Budingan was silent.

"I'm sure that you wouldn't live out the month," Raffy finished. The other two men in the room remained quiet. Dutchy now knew why he was banned from talking. This was not the sort of thing he was trained to get involved in.

"What do you want?" Budingan said finally.

"You signed off on a shipment from Bandar-Abbas," Raffy said quickly. "It was received in Medan. No further details available. What was it?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," Budingan told him forcefully.

Raffy stood up and stared at him. "You have until the end of the day to tell me or I send a video anonymously to General Kanikpan."

Dutchy followed his superior officer out of the office, shutting the door with a thump behind him. He didn't know what was going on. He worked out that there was a serious terrorist threat and something had been sent from Iran to Indonesia. He knew that his XO had killed a man the night before. But what he didn't know could fill volumes.

The external boundaries of the police headquarters were at least ten degrees warmer than inside. Dutchy was glad that he'd grabbed a t-shirt as opposed to a suit.

"Driver's five minutes out," Raffy told him.

Dutchy nodded and walked closer. "What was that about?"

The XO looked around hurriedly. "You were there. You heard everything. And I don't think that I need to ask you to keep it to yourself."

"Sir?"

"What is it that you want to know?" Raffy asked pointedly.

"You killed someone last night?"

Raffy stepped away from him. "I didn't have a choice."

"I know that look."

"What look?"

"Frustration," Dutchy answered simply. "Confusion. And what was that about in there? Treason here is not the same thing as it is in Australia."

"I know that!" Raffy shouted in a raised voice. Bystanders were visibly shocked and perturbed by the outrage. He dropped his tone again. "Treason is the same everywhere. I need the information."

As soon as it came out, he felt sick. His argument was the same as Ethan Saunders'. The ends justify the means and the big picture is more important than any one person.

"Right." Dutchy wasn't sitting on the opposite plane of self-righteousness. He and Raffy—they bat for the same team.

"They grabbed us, Dylan," Raffy began, "and they brought us down to their level."

"We're just doing what we have to," Dutchy countered. "To protect our country."

"That's almost the same argument as 'I was just following orders'," Raffy mused with an impenetrable stare. "Didn't quite go down like that at Nuremberg."

"But in the end, if we save a hundred or a thousand lives…"

"Will it be worth it?"

Dutchy smiled. "To all those lives, yes. You'll be a hero."

Lunacy was infectious, it seemed. What his buffer was suggesting was rather preposterous. "Hero? I think not. We're all dark knights battling through hell to come out with some sort of reward in the shape of national applause. But really we're just outcasts."

"I've seen the movie. Well thought-out plot, exceptional special effects and an award-winning cast."

Raffy wanted to laugh. His subordinate caught on fast. But there was a dreadful emotion eating away at his soul, and it took a piece every single time he came out of the worst with his head. He spoke again, in barely more than a monotonous whisper, and Dutchy had to lean in to hear. But his philosophical thought said so much more than anything the officer could have revealed about himself.

"You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain."


	16. Chapter 16

Thank you for your reviews on the last chapter. This story is starting to wind up but there is still a lot to go and a lot happening in the next few chapters.

Enjoy and please review.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

It was Raffy's turn to be the man with the plan. Fed up with Ethan's immoral rise to glory, he was going to come up with a way, a better way, to ascertain the whereabouts and scheduled scheme of the faction they were searching for. He arrived back in Denpasar just after midday and organised to meet Mike and Kate back on the Hammersley. They had spent the morning in a debriefing with Ethan and Don McAllister at the Intercontinental hotel. It had been a difficult and unwanted experience.

Raffy's instructions to them had been clear—he would organise their transportation outside of the embassy's boundaries and without Ethan's knowledge and they would have to slip away without being seen. He and Ethan were once close friends, but events of the past, just before he took leave and then transferred to the Hammersley, and the situation they'd been in the previous evening had changed that rather dramatically. There was a strong issue of trust, and the fact remained that Raffy could no longer trust Ethan with his life or the lives of his coworkers. Maybe he was growing too straight for this business, but he wasn't about to let the unclean antics of a rogue ASIS Intelligence Officer ruin his life.

Kate and Mike had taken some R'n'R in the pool area and left Ethan to tend to the video conference call with Jakarta. His subordinates hadn't followed them there but they could no longer escape through the front door. Instead, they had sneaked along the periphery of the resort until they found a low enough section of the pointed, black iron fence to leap over, and then a short trek along the road until they came to a T-intersection. There would be a man in a grey panel van on the opposite side, waiting for them. Mike was wary, but Kate had an unwavering faith in her XO and he would have to trust it.

As it turned out, that trust was not misplaced. The driver dropped them about a hundred metres away from the port and, at an Olympic power-walk pace, they continued along the road until security stopped them. Once back on to the Hammersley, home again, Kate would call it, she changed into her AUSCAM overalls and asked Raffy to pipe senior sailors to the ship's office. They greeted her and Mike with expressions of surprise and auras of confusion.

"What happened?" Dutchy asked immediately. Raffy had failed to mention this to him and their injuries looked rather fresh. They certainly didn't have them on the Hammersley yesterday.

Kate was sporting a long red gash on her left cheek and remarkable bruising under the eye. But Mike looked a lot worse and oddly reminiscent of the last time he was held, tortured and beaten. Both eyes were discoloured, there was a cut above his left brow that required stitches, his lips were chaffed in different places and they could see that his wrists were a bloody red raw.

Swain looked expectantly from Mike to Kate to Raffy and Charge, loitering in the dark corner, was silent waiting for their response.

"Something happened when we left the port yesterday," Kate admitted.

"We can see that," Charge said from the back of the room. "What?"

Kate looked at Mike and back at her sailors. They were anticipating an answer. "We were captured by members of a terrorist faction for certain information."

"They were found quickly," Raffy put in, not at all in the mood to discuss it with the sailors. He hadn't told Dutchy for that reason, but he probably should've known that they'd work out something was wrong by the beaten faces of two of their commanding officers.

"But we have work to do now," Kate said authoritatively and before the sailors could interrogate them further. After spending the morning in a debriefing, she didn't need another one. Naturally assuming the role of CO, she continued, "There is an imminent attack planned against Australia. We are likely looking at a similar weapon to what we pulled off that boat a few days ago."

"How imminent?" Swain asked.

"We're not sure," Raffy answered, speaking for his CO. "But with this level of communication outside of Jakarta and this organisation, we know it's going to be soon. Very soon."

"Three members of this group were killed last night," Kate put in. "We know that they will be moving this by sea. It's likely that a large amount of explosive material was transported from Jakarta to Denpasar via the maritime trade network."

"So won't it be in a port somewhere," Dutchy suggested.

"Exactly," Kate said and turned her back to the group, picking up a marker. She drew a rough map of the south Balinese coastline and circled all of the ports from Jimbaran Bay to South Denpasar. The Hammersley's position was in the far west. "I have a plan."

Mike looked at her, surprised. He wasn't astonished by her intelligence or mental acuity, but he was shocked to learn that she didn't tell him or run it by him. It wasn't just Kate then, that was shocked by the changes in command.

"X?" Kate said, hinting for him to explain his part.

"Yes," he said quickly and stepped up next to her. "I hired three dinghies from a small shop here." And he marked where 'here' was on the map. "We're going spread out in groups of three and scour the area."

"Photographic equipment, binoculars, night-vision," Kate added. "Your role is strictly reconnaissance. I want you in and out of ports, wherever you can go without raising too much suspicion, looking for anything that seems out of the ordinary."

"Out of the ordinary?" Dutchy asked. "Such as?"

"I know this will be difficult," Kate said understandingly. "We don't know enough to know what we're looking for. We do know that explosive material arrived from Jakarta and we also know that something was received in Medan from Iran. We don't know what that is or if it's in Denpasar now."

"So what are we looking for, then?" Swain requested.

"I'm trusting that you all know enough to know when something looks suspicious. It could be a warehouse with armed guards. It could be an empty port with a patrol outside. If they're hiding something here, we need to find it."

"Understood, ma'am," Dutchy put in. They knew their orders, even if it left a little to the imagination.

"As the X told you, we will be travelling in groups of three," Kate continued. "X, Dutchy, you will have the first dinghy with 2Dads. Charge and Swain, the second one with Tiger. Commander Flynn, the third with RO and Sharkey. Civvies, please. You can be tourists or fishermen or marine data surveyors, whatever you like. Something inconspicuous."

"Fishing," Charge said with a smile. He hadn't grabbed his tackle from under his rack in a while.

"As I mentioned, this is strictly a recon mission," Kate said over the chatter. "No cowboy heroics. We'll be in constant radio contact and I want your position all the time. Are my order clears?"

A part of her was specifically looking at Dutchy. Maybe pairing him with the XO wasn't a good idea, because Raffy would be the second person to ignore her orders. And then to throw 2Dads into the mix… she was going to keep an eye on Dinghy No. 1.

"Crystal, ma'am," Dutchy told her.

"Inescapably clear," Mike said from the side. He had yet to utter a word, letting her take over the show. He preferred to watch from the side and, in the last five minutes, he recognised again what he had seen to make him choose her for the command. It was an ideal choice and her leadership on the Hammersley only amplified it.

His team, like Raffy's, was assuming the identities of Australian tourists on a snorkeling trip. Charge has chosen the roles of pleasure fishermen for his group. They were kitted up and ready to go as the two unmarked vans that Raffy had organised to drive them into Kuta pulled up fifty metres from port security. Armed with Canon digital cameras and lens extension tubes, binoculars with adaptive night-vision, courtesy of Raffy Rodrigues, and several Brownings in case they ran into unwanted trouble, they departed from the ship and waved farewell to those left behind on the bridge as they went.

Kate was monitoring the radar with Bird channeling in on the EOD. The Hammersley stuck out enough to get a glimpse of the southwest Balinese coastline, but beyond that, they would be blind. Kate knew she was taking a risk in sending out half of her crew to do the work of local intelligence spooks, but they had little choice. Raffy was not in the mood to trust Ethan Saunders or Don McAllister and neither was she. There would probably be repercussions for their lonesome reconnaissance voyage, but that would have to wait until they shut down this terrorist cell.

The three dinghies departed in three different directions. Each team had been given zones to search and Kate was watching their movement on the cluttered radar. In port, it was usually a rather useless piece of technology, but in this instance, it was the best thing she had.

Dutchy was maneuvering his boat on the furthest sector from the Hammersley—the southeast coastline. This was the warehouse district and if there was anything untoward in any port in South Bali, it would probably be in this area. Raffy and 2Dads weren't dressed in snorkeling gear. They figured that, in this area, so far from the other tourists, they look more than conspicuous. There were a few ships, mainly of the cargo transport variety, in the area, but it was relatively dead in comparison to where they started. There were almost no signs of life. In reality, it would be the perfect place for a terrorist hideout.

"I'm not seeing anything suspicious," 2Dads voiced as they passed through more and more ship terminals and staging areas. They were all thinking the same thing.

"Keep looking," Raffy advised. "We've got to find something."

"Did that commissioner ever call you back?" Dutchy asked prudently.

"Not yet."

"Commissioner?" 2Dads was out of the loop.

"Keep looking," Raffy repeated in a sterner voice.

"Yes, sir."

"Do you have any ideas what they're planning?" Dutchy said over the rudder as they rounded another bend and approached yet another set of warehouse terminals.

"Some," Raffy conceded. Multi-tasking as he kept watch over the dead zone, he continued his vague response. "A bombing would be my first guess. Where? I don't know."

"What about when?" 2Dads asked.

"Well, recent history dictates that we can expect a rise in insurgency and terrorist activity by Muslim extremists during the month of Ramadan. Perhaps they want to celebrate the start with some fireworks," Raffy replied in a monotone.

None of what he said sounded good to Dutchy. It seemed that his XO was dolling out the bad news frequently for dramatic effect. He probably would've preferred it all in one go. "Okay. When does Ramadan start?"

The look he was given told the Petty Officer that he'd really rather not know.

"In about 36 hours."


	17. Chapter 17

A speedy update. Not sure when the next one will be. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe Thursday or Friday. Really getting into the nitty-gritty of this case now. It's on the downward slope.

Enjoy and please review.

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

It was a Wednesday evening, but the middle of the working week did not put a dent in the party atmosphere of Kuta Beach. This zone was the closest to the Hammersley and had been designated to Mike and his group. RO was in charge of steering and Sharkey was resting at the front with night-vision capable binoculars, scanning the shoreline for the off-chance encounter with abnormal activity. In such a densely populated tourist spot, situations out of the ordinary appeared at every bend and it was difficult to discern the haphazard visitor indiscretions from actions with murderous intent.

The tourist spot was active all year round and all day - and night - round. With so many Westerners and holidaymakers in the one area, it was a more than plausible location for the imminent terrorist attack and, ergo, a vital reconnaissance position for the Hammersley crew. Mike had informed his two minions that they would need to be on the lookout for counter-surveillance crews, repetitive visitations from locals and frequent, suspicious happenings. But they were weaving so swiftly through the maritime zone of anchored vessels that the spotting of said activity was a hard task.

Of all the crews' senior members, Mike kept in contact with the CO the most. The radio did not leave his hand and he was constantly updating Kate on what they saw ashore. He shared his theories and fears on the location, and often reported that 'he had nothing.' Charge was similarly updating her, but with less additional information and less often. The only crew that she hadn't heard from in the last twenty minutes was Raffy's. She had requested an update twice since he last made contact. The first time he responded that his team was advancing on a suspect location with the lights and engine out. He did not answer the second time.

Kate was concerned, but not enough to try him again. If he was checking out a possible terrorist location, dangerous as that was, he would need to maintain radio silence until the threat dissipated. She didn't want them found because he was overheard responding to her many questions. That said she wanted an answer as to what exactly his team was doing and why it was taking so long to respond.

"X-ray 8-2, please respond," she said after a further five minutes.

Raffy sighed on the other end. He heard the transmission, but a response could give away their secreted position if there were any enemy ears nearby. They had located an 'abandoned' warehouse on the furthest edge of their search perimeter. There was an armed security patrol gliding along its periphery, both shore-side and roadside.

"Are you going to answer that?" Dutcy asked with a cheeky grin.

Raffy was unimpressed. Lowering his voice, he hit the button on his radio and answered, "A little busy right now, Charlie 8-2." Then he switched it off.

2Dads followed suit, knowing the XO would have hell to pay when they returned. Dutchy reluctantly followed suit. They had changed from tourist outfits to the more camouflaged black shirt, pants and beanie. The dinghy had been hidden along the shore some hundred metres from the warehouse, and they had crept along the shaded seaside trees until they got within ten metres of the patrol.

Raffy had put 2Dads in charge of photography and filmography. Dutchy was armed with and clutching a 9mm Browning. Raffy had slid his into the back of his pants. His night-vision binoculars were zoned in on the outside areas of the warehouse. They were carefully concealed by light shrubbery and dense grass. It was starting to itch.

For ten minutes, they only witnessed the movement of hired mercenaries around the base. Raffy was mentally planning a covert invasion so they could ascertain what exactly the building was sheltering when a car pulled up at the iron-barred gate. The guards inspected it, yelled orders at each other and then, after a minute or so, allowed it to enter the compound. Raffy zoomed his focus in on the man that exited through back passenger-side door.

"I know that man," he muttered.

"Who?" Clearly, Dutchy had heard him and lifted his own binoculars to his eyes.

"2Dads," Raffy hissed. "Get snaps of the man in the suit and _taqiyah_ and send them to the boss."

He nodded without bothering to ask what a _taqiyah_ was and retrieved his mobile phone from his pocket.

"Who is it?" Dutchy asked again.

Kate's voice was on the radio now, interrupting him. It appeared that Raffy had switched his radio back on. The others repeated the action. "Are you sure of this, X?"

"Dead sure," Raffy responded.

"Who is it?" Dutchy was starting to get frustrated again. Why is it that the officers always had unspoken conversation going on between them that none of the sailors could work out? Could they really telepathically communicate? He'd had enough of it with the previous regime, but for the tradition to continue… Was this something they learnt at Jervis Bay?

"His name in Abdul Malik Hussein," Raffy answered finally, in the same hushed tone that he'd been using for a while. "He's the supposed leader of this faction of JI. We've been searching for him for… a long time."

"At least we know that we're in the right place," 2Dads put in.

"Get as much video evidence as you can and get out of there," Kate advised. "I will advise Ethan of your position and he will take care of this."

Raffy wasn't inclined to agree with his CO. "Ma'am, with all due respect, it's Hussein. If we get him, we take out his entire chapter. This attack will not be able to go ahead."

"You don't know that," Kate replied. "His supporters could already have this underway. I want you back on the Hammersley."

"Ma'am-" Raffy started to complain.

She stopped him before he could. "What are you going to do, X? Take him out yourself? Dutchy, how many armed guards are there?"

"At least 8, ma'am," he answered dutifully. "Probably more inside."

Raffy shot him a foul glance, suggesting that he had somehow decapitated his manhood and was pussy-whipped into answering the boss' every word. The nature of naval command did not enter the equation.

"You're outgunned and outnumbered," Kate told him. "Any attempt to apprehend Hussein would be suicide. And don't forget, we don't have any jurisdiction here."

"But-"

"Return to the ship. That's an order."

He couldn't argue with that. 2Dads wrapped up the video and started towards the dinghy. Dutchy pulled his somber XO along with him, who was rather reluctant to move an inch let alone a mile.

"The boss is right," Dutchy whispered to him. "We were hopelessly outnumbered."

"That may be true, but I just wish that I'd gotten the chance to see what was inside that warehouse."

"A bomb maybe. What will Ethan Saunders do about it?"

Raffy knew exactly what he'd do. Kate was right—it wasn't their jurisdiction. "Inform the Indonesian National Police," he replied. "Detachment 88 will raid the warehouse sometime during the night."

"That's good then," 2Dads said as he helped Dutchy push the dinghy along the shallow water. They could not start the engine in such close proximity to the warehouse without the risk of them being heard. About three hundred metres down, Raffy signaled to the others to fire up the engine. It was probably a safe distance.

The journey back to Jimbaran Bay was not a long one, but they knew that the other teams had already returned to the Hammersley. Last to arrive on shore with their hired dinghy, they replaced it in the rack and greeted the old local man who owned the shop. One of the vans Raffy had paid for was already waiting for them on the side of the road.

But their approach was not without delay. Raffy's phone was ringing. He quickly glanced at the caller ID and nodded to the others to go on without him—he'd catch up soon.

"Yes?"

"I will cooperate, Mr Rodrigues," said the voice on the other line. Commissioner Budingan had chosen wisely. "Please just tell me that you will destroy this video."

"I'll do you one better, Commissioner," Raffy replied. "I'll lose the number as well."

"That is good to hear."

"So tell me?" Raffy continued. "What did Hussein buy from the Iranians?"

The answer was not quite what Raffy expected, nor was it one he expected to hear. If the situation could get any worse, it just did.

"A submarine."


	18. Chapter 18

Sorry it took so long, but I've been insanely busy. I was going to finish this on Saturday night, but I got sidetracked listening to Bob Hawke on Sky. But now it is done... with another cliffhanger. Damn, I love those. And with any luck, I'll have this finished by the end of the week. But no promises.

Enjoy and please review.

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

The tide had risen and the Hammersley was swaying noticeably when Raffy's team, the last team, finally arrived back. He went straight to the COMCEN and spent the better part of an hour on the phone with, Kate suspected, ASIS Intelligence Officer Ethan Saunders. It was a reluctant but necessary discussion that needed to be had, and Raffy emerged somewhat dishevelled with important news for his CO.

The news hadn't been good. The information they'd previously acquired had been pivotal. The response had been slow. Kate sensed that somewhere, between it all, the effect would be great.

There was precious little that she could do but wait. If her XO was right, there was a little over 30 hours left to prevent a major catastrophe. She hadn't slept in over 42 hours. Scars of the previous day were haunting her every waking moment. Her bruised ribs, an injury she'd sustained in the crash, twinged a little as she reached for her clean uniform. Fingers did not meet the lining of the blue-grey camouflage material, however. A knock at her door drew her attention away.

"Enter."

Her door opened and a similar clothed man edged his way inside, shutting the metal behind him. She was glad that he took the time and courtesy to knock before making himself at home in her cabin. His old one, if she was going to be unwaveringly correct.

"What news?"

Had he been expecting some?

"The X was on the phone with Saunders, I suspect," Kate told him. She was sitting absently on the edge of her chair and he was in the usual relaxed position that he held in the CO's cabin—back to wall and buttocks to desk.

"And?" With all that had happened in the last few hours, he wondered, was she really waiting for an invitation? He knew it would be bad news. That was why she took so long to out it.

"There was nothing when Detachment 88 arrived. Not even the security team. Definitely no bomb or Hussein."

"What do you mean? They left?"

Kate shrugged. "It took us five hours to respond. If they even thought for a second that they'd been compromised, they'd have left immediately. And you can bet that Hussein had an exit strategy."

Mike shuffled uncomfortably. "Did they leave anything behind?"

"A mess," she answered. "At least we know that they left in a hurry and left one hell of a cleanup behind. Forensic experts are going through it now."

"I hope we'll be informed on what they once the CSI's do their thing," Mike said. "Have you got anything from them yet?"

"Something big. Will you let me finish updating you and then you can start with the questions?"

He looked a little sheepish. "Sorry." She was sure getting snappy in her higher position.

"That part of the coastline is home to some deep-water when the tide rises. My guess is that's why they picked the place. There was some sort of underwater trench leading into the main body of the warehouse."

"Which fits in with Raffy's submarine theory," Mike put in quickly.

She glared and he realised that he'd interrupted her again. "It's not a theory," she said, continuing. "It's a more than likely probability."

"I'll give you that," Mike said. "But what are they planning to do with a submarine and a thermobaric weapon?"

Kate looked at him strangely. "Blow up something, perhaps?"

He responded in kind with a similar look. "Very good, Lieutenant Commander. Even I figured as much. I meant what."

"Well, if we knew that, we wouldn't be in this mess," she said with the same condescending tone.

"I realise that! I'm brainstorming."

There was a short pause. "I didn't hear any suggestions."

Mike growled lightly in good-humoured frustration, which made Kate laugh. "Would you like me to-"

"List?" she finished with a smile. "We don't know enough-"

"To guess," he said quickly. "And if we're wrong the results could be-"

"Disastrous," she put in. "And we're running out of time. Ramadan starts tomorrow."

"According to Raffy's timeline."

"Well," Kate began, "we know it's imminent and it would probably have some symbolic meaning."

"That could still leave us with a handful of other times. We have no-"

"No what? Definitive time and date? That would be too easy, Mike."

He shook his head and smiled. "Yes. Exactly what I'm thinking. Why is it that you always seem to know what I'm thinking?"

She shrugged. "Hmmm…. Not always, Mike."

"Well," he started suggestively, looking from her clean clothes to the open bathroom door. "What am I thinking now?"

"Very funny," she said in a very unamused tone. "We should probably get some rest. I'll see you at breakfast."

He was ushered out of the cabin before he had a chance to put forward any more wildly inconclusive suggestions.

* * *

Ethan Saunders did not arrive back at the Hammersley until 1000h the following morning. He was not travelling alone as Raffy expected. The two black-suited men were flashed passed security and welcomed on the gangway. Kate invited them on to the bridge. She was taken aback when Don McAllister shrugged off her greeting and pushed passed her to Mike. It was almost an affront to her new status as CO, but he was still the highest-ranking officer on the Hammersley.

He did not greet Mike as they anticipated. He did not say anything. Ethan, pulling up the rear with Raffy, was the first to launch into discussion once Kate had cleared the bridge of non-essential personnel.

"We found explosive residue in the warehouse," he told the officers. McAllister, Kate suspected, had already been informed of this.

"Do we know why they were gone when we got there?" Raffy asked. "Did they see or hear us last night?"

Ethan gave him a knowing glare that said a lot more than his response. "Someone talked."

"So we are sure that this sub is carrying a bomb of some sort?" Kate asked pertinently, ignoring the eye-to-eye conversation that was going on between Ethan and Raffy.

"Do we know what it is anyway?" McAllister said, interrupting her. "What are you doing to find out?"

"We're doing everything we can, sir," Mike told him firmly. "Nobody here is in a position to do more than that."

McAllister did not seem swayed. He stepped closer to the camouflage-clad officer before him and hissed a dangerous threat. "Well, you had better work harder. I'm not taking the fall for this again. Don't forget, Commander, shit rolls down hill."

Mike was expressionless.

"I've been informed that it's an old Soviet Beluga class submarine, sir," Raffy told the insistent embassy official, interrupting the tense power play between civilian and military.

"Is that good or bad news, son?" the older man requested impatiently.

"Well, it's slower than us. Top speed of 24 knots and that's submerged."

"So what's the bad news?" Patience was not a virtue Don McAllister appeared to possess or appreciate.

"It's been fitted to carry a 53-65K torpedo," Raffy answered quickly and absorbed the disappointed response that engulfed the room. "Kerosene-hydrogen mix. And if that's been chock-loaded with ethylene oxide… it's going to go boom."

He looked from Raffy to Mike to Kate wildly. "You're the naval officers. You tell me where this is going."

"Timor Sea?" Kate suggested. "Oil?"

"The oil fields are a distinct possibility," Ethan agreed.

"The maximum depth throughout most of the Timor is 650 feet," Raffy put in. He clarified the point when he saw a noticeable number of confused glares. "200 metres."

"If it was going to take out something on the water…" Ethan began questioningly and looked to Raffy to continue.

"It would need to surface to a depth of no less than 50 feet."

McAllister was nodding happily, as though stopping this attack was now well within their grasp.

"But she's a diesel," Raffy continued. "We won't hear her until she does so."

Mike was obviously waiting for the right moment to speak again. It had arrived. "But at 600 feet, we should be able to pick up her sonar."

"Yeah, if we can find her," Kate said blasphemously.

"Can we?" McAllister asked.

Kate edged further against the desk. "It'd be a lot easier if we had a sub, but the nearest is at Fleet Base West. Perth."

"Actually," Raffy interrupted, "that's not the case. There's two Collins class submarines on their way back from the Gulf."

Something snapped inside his head. When realisations came, it was normally too late to do anything. But this… this time, Mike discerned the plan before anyone else and while they still had a chance to stop it. There were moments for him sometimes, when he just knew what was coming next. This was one of those times. "Say that again."

Raffy looked at the Commander strangely and lost-like. "There are two Collins subs coming back from the Middle East. They're travelling with the _Parramatta_ and the replenishment ship, _Sirius_."

Mike was shaking his head in disbelief. He looked up at his colleagues, a shocked, but determined look in his eyes. "And two patrol boats. We wondered what they achieved by taking naval officers. We wondered why they wanted the Coastwatch security frequency. We wondered why they needed a sub!"

"They're going to blow the Parramatta and her group," Kate realised. "That's more than 350 serving naval personnel."

"Well, we know their plan now," Mike said slowly over the gathering silence. "They're going to wipe out a portion of our fleet."


	19. Chapter 19

A nice and speedy update for y'all. This story is wrapping up now with only 2-3 chapters left (I'm not entirely sure on the number). I want to do some sort of series and as it stands, I already have the next two "episodes" planned. They will be shorter, however. Think of this one as a double-episode. But if anyone has any ideas for the next story or ones to follow, I would be happy to hear them.

Enjoy and please review.

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**

It took the Hammersley crew twenty minutes to get off the dock. They were mostly lounging around in the mess', unaware that they were on the clock to stop the massacre of their colleagues. Kate had taken up her fitting position in the CO's chair. The XO was sitting beside her, nursing the radar. Sharkey was on the EOD and Swain was at the helm. RO and Charge were searching for a high-pitched emission of the enemy sub's sonar.

Mike, on the other hand, was standing rather uselessly by the maps and survey charts at the rear of the bridge. The scene unfolding before him was one that he was used to, just not in the position he found himself in. Ethan and McAllister were nearby, speaking to each other in hushed whispers. Mike managed to gather the general gist of their conversation. There had been a leak somewhere—he didn't know where—and they were trying to plug it with clever references to plumbing and waterworks. He didn't really need to be in the spook industry to understand what they were talking about.

"Do we know if Hussein has been able to track the Parramatta squadron?" Kate asked from her high and mighty position.

Ethan and McAllister shared an uneasy glance that didn't escape Mike. The older of the two appeared quite expressionless after the initial eye motion, but Ethan Saunders did not regain composure as well. Looking beside her, Kate noticed her XO was similarly read into whatever had happened to bring them to this point. And whatever it was, it was still keeping her and Mike out of the loop.

"Will one of you please explain what you seem to know that nobody else here does?" she snapped.

"Somebody talked," Ethan answered, repeating the same phrase he'd used earlier that day.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mike questioned antagonistically.

"He means that there was a leak at the embassy," Raffy answered with a slightly annoyed tone. He was, Kate sensed, annoyed at the civilian administration for allowing it to happen and then covering it up.

"A leak?" Mike said exasperatedly.

Kate ignored him. It wasn't the time or place for a momentary freak-out. "Did you ask whoever it was what they leaked?"

"We can't," Ethan replied simply. "She's dead."

"We found out this morning," McAllister put in with a somber tone.

"And we're not sure what information she was able to obtain for them," Ethan continued, "but since they knew we were coming to the warehouse last night, I'm not ruling out the squadron's secure route."

"Anything on the sonar, RO?" Mike asked impatiently. It seemed that Raffy Rodrigues wasn't the only naval officer utterly pissed off with the running of the Indonesian intelligence branch. It seemed to be one failed mistake after another.

"Nothing yet, sir," he adeptly answered. "If they're submerged below a depth of 250 feet, we may not pick it up until we're close."

"This ship isn't designed for anti-submarine warfare," Kate stipulated.

McAllister was moving now, for the first time since he stepped foot on the bridge, and came to rest behind Raffy. "Won't you pick them up on this?"

"Maybe," Raffy replied. "If they've surfaced enough."

Hours passed and they were no closer to finding the sunken submarine. They had long since left the Indian and entered the Timor Sea. The Parramatta squadron had been placed on high alert and was similarly searching for radar contacts but, with no port in sight and excessive fuel consumption, they could not afford to stop. They would need to push through to Darwin.

The crew had shuffled out slowly, exchanging watches and roles with the others. 2Dads had taken over on the sonar search from Charge. RO had been replaced by his assistant. Dutchy was now at the helm. The officers had not moved, however. Even Mike, who no longer had functional role on the bridge, had failed to sway from his spot by the maps. Kate was still determined as ever in the CO's chair, her binoculars squeezed in a tight grip. The only member of their party that had not succumbed to the intense reality they now found themselves in was Raffy, who was calmly humming "Underneath the Radar" over said mechanism.

Nobody moved much when RO reappeared on the bridge trailing Don McAllister. Their assumptions that the two had spent time in COMCEN together communicating with Canberra proved correct when their Radio Operator informed Kate and Mike that Legal had approved the amendments to the rules of engagement and standard operating procedure.

"And you have ministerial approval for disabling fire," McAllister added.

"Who approved that?" 2Dads said with a smirk.

Mike wasn't so amused. "The incumbent PM still has ministerial power. It raises an important issue, however—the government's in turmoil. A terrorist attack right now, while we're in political limbo, would be disastrous."

"At least it'd be a very quick way to decide an election," Raffy piped up. "Whether or not we stop this might determine its outcome."

2Dads was noticeably confused. "Even if we stop it?"

"Especially if we stop it," the XO clarified.

"Typical," RO commented. "We do all the work and politicians get all the glory."

A short spout of laughter gripped the crew. But even the smallest moments of happiness could not defeat the unbearable feeling that they were fighting a losing battle. The submarine wasn't terribly fast, but it had at least a twelve hour head-start, was silent under the water and almost untraceable.

"So what do you think the point of that first thermobaric weapon was?" Dutchy pondered aloud. "The one that wasn't really a weapon?"

His question was rather unexpected in the suddenly solemn atmosphere. They had resigned themselves to the role they had to play in the grand scheme of things and were no longer going to query it. Question time was over the moment they were denied a straight answer.

Raffy's answer was a shrug.

Kate's was more to the point. "Perhaps they wanted to gauge our response."

"It was a delivery method," Mike put in. "They were trying different things. Maybe they had multiple targets."

"What's to say that they don't?"

Raffy snorted, a little annoyed by his buffer's line of inquiry. "Because their other method of delivery did not work."

"If we pick up Hussein, you can ask him," Mike said with a smile.

"We won't be _picking up_ Hussein," Ethan piped up. "Unless he's in pieces."

The thought sent an unintentional vibration down Kate's spine. She was spared from thinking about it further by a sudden noise from the other side of the bridge.

"I've got something, ma'am," 2Dads shouted from his position in front of the sonar graph.

Kate leapt from her chair at an inhuman speed and rushed over to him, a little surprised to see that he was actually right. He'd found the submarine.

"I've got the squadron on radar, ma'am," Raffy alerted her. "Range 12 miles on a bearing of 1-5-0."

"I'm picking up a feint signal but it's too gargled," RO put in. "Coordinates are approximately 125 degrees East, 3 minutes; 11 degrees South, 25 minutes."

"Depth?" Mike asked. He wisely chose not to crowd them when they were working so hard, even if the results of this attack could be disastrous.

"150 feet and diving," Kate replied. "They know we're here and they're going to outrun us."

"Will they?" Ethan asked pertinently.

Kate didn't answer. Mike knew the answer. Nobody else asked the question. "Dutchy, full ahead both engines bearing 1-6-0."

"Aye, ma'am," came the dutiful reply. "Full ahead both engines bearing 1-6-0."

"It's show time," Raffy muttered under his breath, watching as they approached the squadron and the feint radar contact just north of its position and south of their own, moved at a rapid pace.


	20. Chapter 20

Second last chapter here, folks. I've decided there will be one more in this story. Also, I made an amendment to the last chapter. Mango reminded me that I'd confused my directions and bearing. Has been repaired.

This chapter required quite a lot of research in anti-submarine warfare. I hope its almost correct, but a bit was left to guesswork. It's shorter too... I didn't see a point in dragging out an inevitable end.

Enjoy and please review.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty**

Tense and jerky movements engulfed the Hammersley bridge. Every single member of the crew was somewhere important and ardently hoping that their robotic actions would be enough to secure a victory. The gunners, Sharkey and 2Dads, were at the EOD and on the Fire Control Radar respectively. A shot to destroy a submerged vessel would be a tricky one. Raffy had input the data into the computer to adjust the angle of incidence, but they were leaving a lot to chance. Unfortunately, they only had one chance to move. If the submarine got off got a shot with a guided missile, there would be no stopping it.

They were no longer required to make contact with the vessel before firing. The Parramatta had cast an exclusion zone around itself and its squadron, and had been broadcasting warning messages for over an hour. All deterrents had been put into place. All had failed. The Hammersley would have one chance to destroy the sub. If it were to surface to a depth of fifty feet, it would be able to fire on the Parramatta. But, at fifty feet, a direct hit from the Typhoon would be nigh impossible. The sub would need to half that before they could attempt a shot.

If there were small favours in the world, they seemed to be falling into Kate's lap. The submarine was rising too quickly to launch the torpedo at fifty feet. It needed to slow to at least 2 knots before it could fire. As they approached the surface, water resistance would slow them down, allowing them to get a shot off at approximately 20-30 feet. At this point, the Typhoon would fire. And it would be a waiting game. A game of luck. They were lucky, however, that the submariners onboard the enemy vessel didn't appear to be as proficient in seamanship as they were.

"Typhoon, aim at target," Kate said in a strong voice. There was no time for self-doubt at such a critical moment.

"Typhoon, aim at target," 2Dads repeated.

The CO of the Parramatta was on the radio again. Kate did not want to speak to him, regardless of the fact that he outranked her. He could wait until it was all over. In retrospect, by the time that happened, it could be too late for Commander Lindsay. RO was politely stalling and it became quite clear that perhaps the officer wasn't aware of the serious nature of the situation.

The submarine was surfacing rapidly, as Raffy expected. It was the marks of an undisciplined crew. He suspected that Hussein recruited them from anywhere. For such an important mission, he should really have picked them a little better.

"Forty feet," Raffy said quickly, and just a few second later, "thirty-five."

"Typhoon, prepare to fire," Kate ordered.

"Preparing to fire, ma'am," the young electronics technician answered dutifully.

Mike drew in a sharp breath as the next word came.

"Engage."

The typhoon fired off three rounds at a negative angle into the water. The explosion was delayed. But it came. They were successful.

Wave and unusual tide motion was rocking the boat. The aftershocks of the explosion were felt minutes later. There was some cheering somewhere on the Hammersley, but Kate took no notice. It was almost anti-climatic. One moment the threat was there and very real and then it wasn't. How vastly things could change in a moment.

The sudden reaction between their own highly explosive fire and the thermobaric torpedo that was probably in the shoot ready to be fired was immense. For the first few moments immediately after, nobody could move. Except for Raffy, that is, who was insistent on guaranteeing that the submarine did not get a shot off before it was destroyed. He didn't relax until he was sure that they hadn't.

"X," Kate said after a few moments. "Let the right people know."

"Aye, ma'am."

"RO," she continued. "Get me Commander Lindsay."

The R.O. rushed to her side with the readied radio.

"Commander," she began and it appeared to Mike that she was about to assume credit for the sinking of the enemy vessel. "What did you want to speak to me about?"

Apparently not. It made him smile.

"That's it?" Ethan asked confusedly.

"Well, it could've been a whole lot worse," Mike responded.

"We could've missed," 2Dads added with a boyish grin.

"X," Kate said as soon as her conversation with the Parramatta CO had come to a conclusion. "Get the RHIB's out for a look-around. See if you can recover anything that might shed more light on how this group came to possess a submarine."

"The Feds will be out here within the hour," Raffy told her. "They're flying in."

"You better not disturb their crime scene, then," Kate put in with a smile.

Raffy returned it and enthusiastically picked up the PA microphone. "Away seaboats. Away seaboats. Away seaboats."


	21. Chapter 21

The one we've all been waiting for has arrived. Firstly I want to thank everyone for reading and commenting (or reviewing on ). Your feedback is always thoroughly appreciated. As I previously mentioned, I have two more "episodes" planned and possibly more, but if you have any wishes or ideas, I'd be happy to hear them. Like this story, there will be MK but they will not directly centre around it. But since I'm already posting in the Mike/Kate forum; and listing Mike and Kate as the main characters on , I'm not going to change that.

Without further ado, the final chapter of Foreign Land. Enjoy and please feel free to leave a review at the end.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One**

They reached the HMAS Coonawarra in Darwin at 1700h that day. It was game of Tetris and definitely took some good Mario Kart skills to pull up three _Armidale_ class patrol boats, the _Parramatta_, the _Sirius_ and two _Collins_ class submarines into a minor port. The ASIS officers, Ethan Saunders and Don McAllister, were the first to disembark, and did so as soon as the Hammersley was secure. There were three suits waiting on the tarmac. It certainly looked like somebody, or bodies, had some explaining to do.

Kate smiled to herself from the bridge. One thing became apparent very quickly— there was some justice in the world and she hoped the right people were going to be credited with the save. And the right people were going to be blamed for any wrongdoings. But at least the Hammersley crew might be down for another Meritorious Unit Citation.

Most of them were on the dock now. Those on the ship had specific roles keeping them there, but the sailors more free to do what they wish with their time were meeting and greeting the battle-worn seamen of the other ships after there hard, six-month deployment in the Gulf.

Kate was alone on the bridge now. Mike had gone down to his makeshift cabin to change. She wasn't sure where Raffy Rodrigues was. He had mentioned something about a brew. That was twenty minutes ago. Perhaps he had left the ship, but she hadn't seen him. He'd skipped lunch, as had they all, so maybe he was making a mess of the galley. It was a good thing that Sharkey was welcoming and rather lax when it came to her kitchen rules.

"Empty bridge?"

Mike's voice interrupted her.

"It would appear so," she answered and turned around, surprised to see him in his whites. "Going somewhere?"

He nodded and leant against the XO's chair. "I need to be at the airport in thirty minutes."

She shifted comfortably in his old one. "Commander Lindsay was gracious enough to thank the crew's fine efforts in Denpasar and out there in the Timor."

"That was awfully good of him."

"Wasn't it?" she said sardonically. They shared a laugh. Now that the threat was finally over, they could settle back into that ritualistic subtle humour and light-hearted fun that so characterised their epic relationship, friendship and partnership.

But then an uneasy pause settled. The threat may have dissipated and they may be able to get back to their usual banter-filled routine, but there were scars of the recent past that had not yet healed and wouldn't for some time.

"You didn't sleep well last night," Mike observed in a solemn tone.

She shook her head. "There was an attack that we couldn't stop," she spoke truthfully. "Nobody slept well last night."

"And now that it's over, do you think you'll sleep well?" His question was so deep and intimate. He could ask all he wanted about her feelings, her aspirations, her concerns, but when it came to her core being, the very essence of her, there were some things that were just too close for comfort.

"I guess only time will tell." It was a vague answer, he could see that, but it was the best she could give when the wounds were so raw. She'd never forget the ordeal they went through just two nights earlier. The vivid flashbacks would not cease to hurtle through her mind. It would stay with her, but she refused to let her life or her relationship with Mike be shaped by it.

"I can't stop thinking about what happened," he admitted, looking at his pristine white shoes on the floor.

She looked up at him. It was not a conversation she wanted to have. She did not believe that talking about was the only way to move on, contrary to popular belief, but if it was the only for him then she would listen. She would give him her 100% attention for as long as he needed it.

"Gudhunyo's face is plastered in my mind," Mike continued in the same bare whisper. "And him standing over you…"

His right hand was clenching his still red-raw left wrist. The rope indentations were likely to remain a physical mark for some time. But it was very clear that those marks she couldn't see ran so much deeper.

"We should count ourselves lucky," Kate told him positively. "And there's very little point dwelling on what might've happened, Mike."

"I know that," he responded. "But the thought of something like that happening to you makes me sick. We were lucky. But what if we weren't?"

"We could spend a lifetime going through the 'what if's.' What if these promotions for both of us had never come? What if I had never been posted back on to the Hammersley? What if that affair at HMAS Watson never happened?"

"What if we had never met?" Mike put in. His spirits hadn't lifted. If anything, they had been dragged further through the mud.

"My life would not have been any better," Kate said thoroughly. "I want you to know that I'm grateful every single day and just because you're in my life."

"But I'm not the man you want to live with," Mike replied plainly. "I sensed your reservation when I gave you the key to my place."

She reached for his hand and sat as close to him as their chairs would allow. "I don't have reservations. I want to move in. There'll be logistical issues, but we can sort them out."

He smiled. "Perhaps in a more appropriate place." Kate noticed they were still on the bridge and let go of his hand almost instantly. Ever the professional, she did not want to get too personal in a professional setting.

"So where are you going?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Canberra," he answered jovially. "I'm to brief the PM herself."

Kate was impressed. It wasn't everyday that a middle ranking naval officer got the opportunity to meet their country's leader, let alone brief him or her on vital security matters. That was usually left up to Defence personnel.

"And you're heading back to Cairns immediately, I hear," Mike added.

"Yes. We sail this evening. Just a short stop to refuel and we'll be on our way. And you'll be sitting in on an intelligence hearing."

"Just like on APAC or C-SPAN," Mike said with a smile.

Raffy's distinct voice from the back of the bridge interrupted them. "Not exactly like on APAC or C-SPAN. The public won't get to see what you're about to."

Mike looked from Kate to her XO and stood up, sensing that there were some parts of her life that he wouldn't intrude upon. He had given the young Lieutenant the green light with NAVCOM to stay on as the Hammersley's XO, but now it was up to Kate. "My taxi will be here shortly. So I'll see you both back in Cairns."

Kate just nodded her goodbye. She was carefully planning the conversation she was about to have with her Executive Officer. Raffy didn't flinch or move as Mike departed. He waited for her.

"How did you enjoy your first set of orders with us?" Kate asked.

Raffy shrugged. "Enjoy… seems wrong. Given what it involved."

Kate laughed. He was right, of course. "What I mean is, do you want to stay on with us?"

"Then why didn't you just say that, ma'am," he jested.

"You're stalling."

"Okay… I'm not sure if this is what I'm suited to."

Kate took a moment to think and then spoke carefully. "This may not be what you are best at, or how you could best serve your nation, but I think that it is what you want, Rafael. And it's what you deserve." She purposefully used his first name, even in the professional setting.

"If that's what you think, ma'am, then who am I to argue."

"I want you to take some time to decide what you want," Kate told him. "NAVCOM have approved and confirmed your appointment so, unless intelligence want you back, you're stuck here for at least the next three months. And, in the navy, I'd say that's plenty of time to decide what lies ahead for you."

"In that case," Raffy concluded, "it looks like I'll be sticking around. And may I be so bold as to speak freely, ma'am?"

"You always speak freely, but go ahead."

"You should definitely move in with Commander Flynn. There are some things that you can only learn about a man by cohabitation."


End file.
